Ant Acklin
by Jarnunvosk
Summary: Anthony Acklin grew up reading the Harry Potter books. He learns that magic is real, and he's a Nomaj-born wizard, just before turning 11. His troubles seem to be alleviated when he's accepted into Ilvermorny School. However, someone doesn't want Ant at the school, and will stop at nothing to force him out. Welcome to Ilvermorny, Ant Acklin. Hope you survive the experience.
1. The Ilvermorny Conspiracy: Chapters 1-7

Chapter One

The Boy Who Loved Books

Anthony Acklin was a boy like any other. His hair was a dark shade of brown that looked almost black when wet. His eyes were a sort of hazel that looked like chocolatey brown or forest green depending on the light. He had a slight build and was short for his age. He was a bit of a bookworm, maybe, but he loved running for the sheer joy of being breathless. He climbed trees just for the exhilarating sense of terror that came with not being able to climb all the way down, and instead jumping to safety. He loved swimming, holding his breath and diving to see just how long he could stay under. He loved to daydream, sometimes for hours on end, due to an endlessly creative imagination. And no matter how _unliked_ he felt at home, he loved his family.

Anthony had three older sisters: Nicole, Frances, and Marie. Nicole was nearly five years older than him, at fourteen; although he'd turn ten in a few weeks, she'd be fifteen a few months after. Nicole didn't live with Ant. She was troubled, often bullying her younger siblings, and had gone to live with their mother after a fight with the children's stepmother, Mae. Despite Nicole's faults, Ant missed his oldest sister, although he did not miss her behavior.

Frances (never Fran) was, perhaps, the sister with whom Ant got along best. She was a few days more than three years older than him. Frances liked the same books as Ant, and often introduced him to new ones he hadn't heard of but grew to love all the same. Like Nicole and Ant, Frances resembled the children's mother, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. Also like Nicole, Frances was somewhat quick to fight, but unlike Nicole, she tended to aim her wrath outward. One of Frances's favorite pastimes was terrorizing an older boy who had once made the grave error of picking on Ant in front of her at school.

And although they were constantly at odds with each other, Ant also loved his sister Marie. Marie was shrewd, capable, and quite as bookish as Ant or Frances, but she also took after Nicole in some ways. Although not as much of a bully, Marie had a budding gift for manipulating people. Perhaps exacerbated by the golden blond hair, blue eyes, and exceptional good looks she had inherited from their father's family, Marie used her skills to slip out of trouble, often redirecting trouble onto Ant or Frances. After all, if Mae noticed money missing from her purse, and Marie insists she didn't take it, _someone_ must have stolen it. And why not Ant? Boys will be boys, after all.

And Ant loved Mae and his father, Tony, in spite of their own faults. Tony might be drinking or drunk most of the time he was home, and he might have very little tolerance for anyone not like himself, or whose ideologies varied from his own, but he worked hard to provide for his children, and none of them had ever known hunger, even if they weren't exactly rich. The religious Mae, divorced from her first husband (a preacher) and forced to move to the opposite end of the country without her own daughters, might take out her frustrations on the kids, and Ant especially, but Ant knew that her influence made his father a better person, and her strict rules and arbitrary punishments were born from a place of love, even if that made them no easier to bear. Because of the love he bore for her, and the effort she gave, it was Mae he called "Mom", rather than the children's biological mother, Joanna.

It was a blustery, overcast, cold winter day in Las Vegas when, coming home from the nearby park with Frances and Marie, Ant noticed a man in a car following them. The man was young, with short dark hair parted on the right and combed back. His pale face was frozen in a look of intent concentration, although his eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. He wore a blue suit with a dark red tie. As he realized Ant had noticed him, he rolled up the window of his car and picked up speed, passing the kids and disappearing around a corner. He didn't tell his sisters, but brought his hands up to his ears, pink in the frigid wind, and suggested they get home a little faster.

It wasn't a long walk back to the apartment where the Acklins lived. It was warm inside, and the kids shucked off their coats and shoes, hanging the coats in the small closet near the front door and placing their shoes on a small rack on the other side of the door. Rubbing fingers and ears for warmth, Ant made sure to shut the door quickly, but quietly behind him; it wouldn't be smart to upset his parents by leaving the door open too long, or by slamming it. His father was watching the television intently; there was a football game on. Ant knew that his father's favorite team would be playing in a few hours, but Ant's father was the type to watch a game even if he hated both teams playing. At a desk on the far wall, Mae tapped away on her computer's keyboard. Neither adult made any sign they had noticed the kids coming in.

The apartment was, in truth, rather too small for five people to live in, with only one bedroom and one bathroom. The front door opened onto the living room, which had enough space for the couch, on the left wall when facing away from the front door, a coffee table in front of it, the television mounted on the wall opposite the couch, and a desk on the wall opposite the front door and the windows to its left. There was a small closet to the right, then an entrance to the kitchen, which also had space for a small dining table with four chairs around it. Knowing better than to walk in front of the TV during football, the kids entered the kitchen, which also exited into the hallway on the opposite side of the living room.

While his sisters went about their own business, Ant approached Mae timidly. He stood there, not interrupting, but waiting for her to address him. After a few moments, she did so, eyes still on the screen. "We're a little hungry…" Ant started, but she interrupted him.

"Don't you know how to feed yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ant said evenly, afraid to sound impatient or patronizing. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay to use the stove, 'cause the girls were talking about making ramen. And, uh, to see if you wanted some."

At this, Mae finally looked away from the computer. Briefly, the look on her face was stricken. It was clear to Ant that she regretted snapping at him. Then her lips spread in the barest smile, and she said, "Yes, please." She patted Ant on the shoulder and turned back to her computer monitor.

Ant returned to the kitchen and began preparing the instant noodles, thinking all the while. He had never been apologized to by his parents, not even in situations like the one that had just occurred, where he knew that far more than an apology would swiftly follow if he had spoken to anyone like that in front of his parents. He wasn't angry about it but had long since accepted that this treatment was part of his life. To an extent, his sisters got it the same, but Ant had heard his parents apologize to them at times, and they often went out of their way to accommodate the girls. Ant noted while turning up the heat under the pot of water he had placed on the largest burner of the stovetop that the girls were far comfortable asking for what they wanted than he was.

While the water boiled, Ant went into the hallway, pulling a plastic tote box from the floor of the lowest shelf there. Contained within this box were Ant's most prized treasures: some old toys that had been given to him by a friend before the family had moved to Vegas, a plastic tub of Lego bricks, and a motley assortment of books. Of these, his favorites, by far, were the box set of paperback Harry Potter books. The set of books had been a Christmas gift from his grandparents, first unwrapped and joyfully clutched to his chest only four days prior. In that time, Ant had speedily reread his way through the first three. Now was as good a time as any to start rereading the fourth, he thought. As he sat down, Marie entered the kitchen and began to stir and poke at the water on the stove, glaring at it as if her eyes could make it boil faster. Ant began reading, and he had time to finish the first chapter of the book before he noticed Marie approaching the kitchen table with a bowl of noodles held carefully in both hands, and a spoon in her mouth.

Ant got up, gathering three bowls from one cabinet and three spoons from a drawer, then ladled the soup into the top bowl on the stack. When it had a good amount in it, he carefully lifted the bowl and one of the spoons and carried them out to Mae. When he came back, there was only one bowl and spoon left; Frances sat at the table with her own bowl. As Ant re-entered the kitchen, she looked up from her bowl and thanked him. Ant served himself and returned to his book, carefully eating with his favored left hand while holding the book a safe distance away from any of the bowls with his right. He barely got through the first page when a loud voice right next to him made him jump.

"Put that _damn book_ away while you're eating!" Mae cried out.

Ant got up, stammering, "Yes, ma'am," and began walking with the book back to the hallway as his father, oblivious to the events in the kitchen fifteen feet from him, gave a loud roar of pleasure as one team scored a touchdown. Ant inspected the book lovingly as he walked, desperate to be sure he hadn't spilled any liquid on it when he jumped. The book was dry. Ant had not yet pulled out the tote box to return the book safely to its box with its ink-and-paper siblings when there came a firm, polite, but loud knock at the front door.

Chapter Two

The Invitation

Ant remained in the hallway, book in hand, while Mae went to answer the door. His father had not turned down the television despite the presence of a visitor. Ant heard the door opening, followed by Mae's voice, saying "Can I help you?"

The voice that responded was deep and lustrous, with a pronounced British accent that Ant had only heard in movies previously.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. My name is Terrence Boot. I work at Ilvermorny School, and I've come to speak with you and your husband about the possibility of your son attending our institution." Following this announcement was sudden silence, as the TV was finally muted. Mae repeated Terrence Boot's words to Tony, who Ant could see rise from the couch to greet the man at the door. A moment later, Mae called for Ant to "get out here", so he did, forgetting to set down the book as he hurried to obey.

When he stepped into the living room, he saw his sisters in the kitchen entrance, watching the handsome British man at the door, as well as Mae closing the door behind Terrence, who glanced around the room, disguising a look of dismay as he did so. Then Ant and Terrence locked eyes, and Ant recognized him as the man from the car, who had been following him. Terrence looked down at the book in Ant's hand, and his face visibly lit up.

"A rather good book you've got there," the man said. "One of your favorites, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Ant responded. The words were strange in his mouth; while Mae insisted that the children use sir or ma'am when speaking to adults, Tony didn't care for it; as a result, the kids only called him "sir" when asked a direct "yes or no" question in front of Mae. Tony felt that there were better ways to show respect than to call someone "sir".

Terrence smiled, nodding, then said, almost as an aside, "It'll certainly make things easier."

Ignoring this, Mae asked Terrence, "Where exactly is your school?"

Terrence spun to face her, somewhat dramatically. "Glad you asked, Mrs. Acklin. Ilvermorny is a private school in Massachusetts. If you'll allow young Anthony here to attend, his position there is guaranteed for the next seven years. There is no tuition, although Anthony will be required to buy his own school supplies, some books, and his school uniforms. I believe the full list costs around, ah, two hundred dollars per year."

"A private school that doesn't charge tuition?" Ant asked when a few seconds had passed in silence.

Terrence turned back to me, smiling still. "Sharp mind there, Mister Acklin. Ilvermorny doesn't charge tuition because it is fully funded by other means. There are some donations from alumni, some from the government. Rest assured, it is a, ah, _top-notch_ education. There's not a school to rival it on this side of the Atlantic," he said, nodding at the book in Ant's hand. At this, Ant simply looked down at the book for a brief moment, confused.

Terrence paused a moment before he continued speaking. "Please, ma'am, have a seat." He gestured to the couch beside Tony Acklin. Mae passed Terrence and sat down.

"Anthony is guaranteed a place at Ilvermorny because he was accepted into the school at birth. Ilvermorny is a school of magic-" (Ant's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened) "and Anthony is a wizard." Ant gasped audibly, and the silence exploded into noise.

"This is some kind of bull-" (Tony used a word Ant knew better than to repeat) "scam. That (he repeated the word) isn't real."

"The Bible says _'thou shalt not suffer a-_ '" Mae interjected.

"I read those books _first_ , it should be _me_!" shouted Marie.

Frances and Ant were silent, but their faces didn't bear the same expressions. Ant was doubtful, confused, and above all afraid to become excited about this: he felt certain that it would be torn from him. Frances was just shocked and seemed angry at her parents' and sister's reactions.

"Please, please, I can address your concerns if you'll just hear me out!" Terrence said loudly over the continuing noise.

The short silence that followed was broken first by Tony Acklin. "Magic," he spat out through clenched teeth, " _isn't real_. You're here trying to sell something, or pull one over on us, or…"

In response, Terrence raised both hands, palms outward, and said, "I assure you, I have nothing to sell and no intentions but to invite Anthony to study at Ilvermorny. And magic is _most definitely_ real." He reached into his suit jacket with his right hand and pulled out a slender length of wood. It was very dark, nearly black, with what appeared to be a spiral of laurel leaves in a lighter shade of brown from base to tip. With a flick, the coffee table rose off the floor, spun slowly in a full circle, then lowered itself to the floor with a barely audible thud.

Terrence turned to Marie. "As for you, my dear, I'm sorry to say that not everyone is born to magic. Had you been born a witch, you'd have been welcome at Ilvermorny as well. Mug- I mean, Nomaj-born wizards are exceptionally rare in the States as it is, due to Rappaport's Law. It's possible you have a wizarding ancestor, but magic is not, shall we say, a dominant gene."

Last, he turned to Mae. "The Bible was written by men who feared anything that differed from their narrow worldview. It tells women not to speak, ignores known fact in pursuance of requiring its adherents to obey unquestioningly, and gives instructions on the proper ways to sell your daughters into slavery. I don't much think it serves as a great basis for moral living." He peered at her closely as she opened and closed her mouth, waiting for the words to defend her chosen book. He headed her off by speaking again. "Besides, there are many wizards who believe in Christian teachings. At Ilvermorny, your son is likely to have the same amount of exposure to religion that he would at a Mug- I mean, nomaj school.

Mae found her voice at last, grabbing whatever objects were within reach and hurling them at Terrence, shrieking "Hypocrites and Jesus haters! You're the Anti-Christ! _Be gone from here, Satan!_ " Dodging the heavy glass ashtray that flew at him to clunk unbroken against the wall and using his wand to freeze in midair the (filled) coffee mug that followed, Terrence spun for the door. It flew open as if of its own accord, and he stepped out of it as a bowl of hot soup followed, shattering as it hit the door and spraying hot soup at Marie and Frances, who stood nearest.

Ant had known he would not be allowed to go learn magic, even if he was a wizard. Despite his attempts to convince himself of this, the actual fact of it struck him hard. He turned back into the hallway, putting his book back in its slipcase tenderly. Tears filled his eyes as Ant retreated into the bedroom, his parents' bedroom, and lied down on the floor on the far side of the bed, facedown on his arms, and sobbed silently.

Chapter Three

The Scholarship

Ant had, perhaps, half an hour of uninterrupted sorrow before he heard someone enter the bedroom. Mae spoke, and her voice was harsh. "Get your ass up. You still have chores to do before bed." In the time it took Ant to look around to her, she had already left the room. He pushed himself up, wiped his bleary eyes, and looked around the room. His eyes caught a flash of motion from outside – someone was standing near the window, pulling away when he realized he'd been seen. Ant was sure it was Terrence Boot.

Ant made his way to the bathroom, where he washed his face and gently patted it dry with the soft hand towel hanging opposite the sink. He looked in the mirror. His eyes, at the moment a dark shade of green, were slightly puffy and looked a bit bloodshot. It wouldn't do to be seen crying; he'd be given something to cry about. He splashed cool water on his face again, then dried it off with the towel a second time. When he looked back at the mirror, he was sure it had helped, because his eyes seemed less red and puffy. He took a few deep breaths then exited the bathroom. He could hear the football game on again, and he thought it had been turned up louder.

He made his way into the kitchen, where his bowl of cold noodles sat congealing on the table. Ant wasn't hungry in the slightest now. He poured the bowl into the trash can, which wasn't quite full. He looked around for other items he could throw away, and he ended up emptying the bathroom trash can into the main one, so it would be full enough to justify taking out to the dumpster behind the building.

Ant tied off the trash bag and carried it to the door, pausing only to pull a jacket out of the closet. Then he walked quickly around the back of the building, tossed the bag into the dumpster, and continued around until he came face-to-face with Terrence Boot.

"I'm so sorry about that-" Boot began, but Ant interrupted him.

"I can't live with knowing I could have studied magic and being stuck in this house. And I doubt I'd survive long anyways with Mae doing her best to stomp the magic out of me."

Boot's eyes widened in shock. "Do you really think so? No, I can tell you're probably right. It's just a question of how to resolve this peacefully. MACUSA policy is to give you the information directly and to have you convince your parents of the importance of learning to control your magic… but I can see how that would go poorly here." He sighed heavily and turned away from Ant. "I'm going to have to ask Professor Hicks how to proceed with this. I may need a day or two," he said embarrassedly.

"Can't you use a memory charm? Make them forget?"

"Goodness, those Potter books have given you quite the early education, haven't they? But I'm afraid not. At least, I should say, without permission. But considering that your mother-"

" _Step_ mother."

"Considering that your stepmother is barely a _step_ away from being a Scourer, I'm sure they'll allow it. I just need permission first."

"Hurry, please, I don't know what it's going to be like in there now that they know I have magic."

"I'll do my best. But if you should somehow convince them, I'll need some kind of sign. Is this a task you perform every day?" He gestured to the dumpster. Ant nodded. "Then I'll send my owl here as soon as I can. Let me know by this time tomorrow whether you've convinced them, and I'll return to discuss your school things."

With that, Terrence revolved on the spot and vanished with a _crack_.

The next twenty-four hours were, somehow, simultaneously the best and worst in Ant's life. Mae was on the warpath; nothing he did was tolerated. He was grounded for loitering outside so long, "No doubt," Mae said, "trying to beg that demon-worshipping freak to come back." When Ant tried to bring up the possibility of going to Ilvermorny, Mae rounded on him like lightning and slapped him, hard, in the face. When tears welled up in his eyes, she grabbed his chin. "One tear falls, and I'll give you something to cry about."

Ant blinked furiously trying to make the tears ago away. He was forcibly reminded of a time, almost a year previously, when he had been accused of stealing something from a friend's house. The truth was that the item hadn't been stolen, but mislaid, and when the friend found it, he had covered up his mistake and refused to admit that nothing had been stolen. Mae had decided that Ant was guilty and had resolved to make an example of this situation to ensure he never stole again. The punishment that followed had been, as Ant had guessed, harsh. Grounded for months, regular whippings with a belt and being forced to write sentences – a wordy, multi-line run-on that might have been a paragraph if properly punctuated, a thousand times. And in his memory stuck the last of the belt whippings from that punishment, in which Mae had somehow cut her arm on Ant's wristwatch. Rather than stop to stem the flow of blood, the sight of her own blood, the pain of the cut, seemed to send her deeper into rage. Ant was grateful that none of the cuts from the belt that day had left permanent scarring.

Even so, he wondered now if the cut Mae had received was from his watch – which, after all, didn't really have any sharp edges – or if he had somehow done so with magic, as a defense mechanism. If it was, he knew he couldn't allow it to happen again. If he was magical, he needed to use it to protect himself, but not to attack.

He blinked one last time, and this time, his eyes were dry. There were no tears running down his cheeks, despite the pain as Mae held his chin tight, angling his face up to her own. "Yes, _ma'am_ ," Ant responded, somewhat late, and when Mae saw he wasn't going to cry, she released his chin rather forcefully. Ant stumbled backwards. He waited until Mae had turned away from before rubbing his sore chin, then began to help his sisters clean the kitchen before dinner.

Even this became unpleasant rather swiftly, as Marie treated him with unwonted venom. Carrying a small stack of bowls and plates, Ant stumbled over Marie's foot as she stuck it out behind her into his path. He fell to the floor, one of the plates shattering, sending shards of broken porcelain throughout the kitchen. Marie yowled in pain. Ant pushed himself up, realizing detachedly that he had picked up a number of porcelain splinters and shards along the way, then moved over to the dining table, where he sat with his bloody hands on the tabletop.

When Mae came rushing into the kitchen, Marie pointed a finger at Ant and began crying and shouting, "He k-k-kicked me, then threw the puh-puh-plate on the floor and it broke and…" she broke off, sobbing. While Ant suspected the pain was imaginary, her tears, pouring fast and heavy from her blue eyes, were certainly real.

"Go rest on the couch, honey, I'll get you an ice pack."

Ant opened his mouth to protest, and Mae rounded on him, hand raised. Ant threw his hands up to block his face, which was still sore from the last slap he had received. Mae let out a gasp of rage that he dared try and block her but couldn't seem to move her arm any nearer despite visibly struggling. At least, she wrenched her arm free of whatever held it and moved closer to Ant, grabbing one arm to force it down while her other hand raised to hit him again, stopped only by an interrupting cry:

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Both Mae and Ant turned in shock to face Frances, rage in her eyes, pouring out like sparks. She stood at the far end of the kitchen, having backed away from the remnants of the broken plate.

"Watch your mouth or you're next, young lady."

"No! She _tripped_ him, she did it on purpose, he's got glass in his hands from the plate _she_ made him break, and _YOU'RE PUNISHING HIM?!_ " The last three words came out as a shriek that was audible over even the football game. "All he did wrong was get invited to some magic school and you're acting like he did that himself! He didn't do anything to deserve getting _grounded_ or _slapped_ the first time and he definitely didn't do anything to deserve it again!"

By this time, Tony had entered the room behind Frances, drunk enough by now that his eyes were slightly unfocused. He looked between Frances and Mae, and it occurred to Ant that Tony was probably afraid that this, here, was the beginning of another family-shattering fight between his wife and one of his daughters. He made to step between them but jumped back before putting his weight into the step that would have filled his foot with tiny porcelain daggers. His gaze seemed to sharpen, and he looked from the glittering shards of plate on the floor to Frances shaking with anger, to Mae grasping one of Ant's arms tightly, to the blood silently dripping from Ant's upraised hands onto the table.

Tony left the kitchen, walking around to the other entrance to come closer to Ant, brusquely moving past Marie, who had stayed in the kitchen entryway to watch the events unfold after being told to rest. Mae released her vice grip on Ant's arm and moved to fetch a broom, sweeping the glass into a pile in the center of the room while Frances retreated out of the kitchen. Tony inspected his son's hands closely, carefully removing the largest pieces of porcelain. Ant noticed the pain for the first time as the pieces were removed, a sharp stinging that covered the entirety of both palms. Within a few moments, Frances sat at the table as well, wielding a pair of tweezers in one hand and a large, shallow bowl of warm water in the other.

Tony stepped aside as Frances began the work of removing the shards and slivers from Ant's hand, dropping them on the table and having Ant rinse his hands off in the bowl to allow her to see the porcelain more clearly.

"Thanks," Ant whispered shakily as the water became tinged with pink.

"No problem," Frances whispered back. "Just promise me you'll do whatever you can to go to that school."

Ant nodded. "I will."

"Ant. You can't be a wuss about it. You can't let them shout you down or slap you into silence. You need to fight for what you want." She looked around at Mae, now kneeling to sweep the pile of porcelain onto the dustpan. "I saw what you did. You used your magic to hold her arm back."

Ant blinked. Whatever barrier he had made had only lasted a few scant seconds, but yes, it had given Frances enough time to come to his rescue. He only hoped he wouldn't need to do so again.

The next morning, Ant was sharply nudged awake shortly after five. He was sleeping on the floor, nearer the window of the living room. Marie slept on the couch. The coffee table was rotated to be perpendicular to the couch, and Frances slept on the floor on the other side of it.

Mae stood over him in the semi-darkness. "Get your jacket and shoes on and come outside."

Ant rubbed his eyes, then pulled on his shoes, not bothering to go find socks, then pulled open the closet to pull out his jacket. He stepped outside and the bitter cold snapped at his nose, cheeks, and ears. He wished he'd grabbed a hat too. He saw Mae in the parking lot, standing over something squat and rounded in the pre-dawn gloom. She held something in her right hand that poured liquid into the round object. As Ant approached, he realized that the round thing was a small coal grill, and the thing in her hand was a container of lighter fluid. And in her left hand, he saw a book of matches.

She sat the lighter fluid down, lit one of the matches, and beckoned him closer. He let out a scream of shock and horror as he looked into the grill and saw, not charcoal, but his beloved books. Before he could rush forward and save his sodden treasures, Mae dropped the match dead-center onto the top book, the fourth Potter book, its new binding torn and bent, blackening as flames danced across it. Shock turned to anger, and as Ant's anger rose, the flames roared higher with it, a tongue snapping out at Mae's sleeve. Mae rushed toward Ant instead, possibly sensing the connection between him and the flames that had come so frighteningly close to her, and slapped him again, harder than she had the night before.

"I will not have that devilry in my home and I will beat it out of you if I have to." She pulled her arm back again to deliver another slap, but found her arm held back an invisible force once more. She raged at it, screaming curses at Ant for daring to use his freakishness against her again, at last aiming a kick at him that would have connected, had that same invisible force not caught the leg in time, as well. But Ant was just as bewildered as she was.

"I would not do that, were I you," the British voice came lilting out of the shadows.

"Let go of me," Mae hissed. Sensing that he would not, she drew in a deep breath, preparing to scream –

" _Silencio_."

\- but when she released that breath, it came silently. She couldn't make any sound at all. With a flick of his wand, Terrence released her from the spell holding her arm and leg in place, and, overbalanced, she fell to the ground silently. She stood up quickly, but the instant Terrence saw her move towards Ant, he flicked his wand again, uttering, " _Petrificus Totalus_ ," And she went as rigid as a board. Terrence flicked his wand again, catching her as she began to fall and returning her to an upright position.

He addressed Ant now. "Professor Hicks insisted I come right back, said you were probably in danger." His eyes looked sad as had inspected Ant's face. "It appears I never should have left you unprotected, and for that I'm sorry." He knelt, taking both of Ant's hands in his left, and began quietly chanting, almost singing, and tracing his wand over the cuts in Ant's hands. A few miniscule flecks of porcelain popped out of a couple wounds before they closed.

Inspecting his work, he smiled at Ant and said, "I understand you produced a Shield Charm last night. I'm sorry I left you in that situation, but I can't deny you've impressed me. That should have been well beyond your ability. Now give me a moment while I deal with _her_." He jerked his head at his captive audience.

He pointed his wand at Mae and, screwing up his face in intense concentration, said, " _Obfusciate_." Nothing happened at first, but then Mae's eyes rolled in her head, and when they returned to normal, her eyes looked oddly blank, as though she were sleeping with her eyes open.

Terrence looked at the grill containing my beloved books, and muttered, " _Evanesco_. Don't worry, Anthony, I'll replace those books." For when he said the first word, the contents of the grill had vanished. "Can't have her suspecting something."

He turned to address Ant again. "I've been given permission to alter your family's memories of yesterday. They will not remember me coming over but will instead remember yesterday as a boring Sunday in which the only event of note was the football game on the telly. They'll not know you're a wizard. I will return in a few hours to inform them…"

Twenty minutes later, Ant locked the door behind Terrence and settled back onto his pallet of blankets on the floor. Terrence had walked him through the plan then modified the memories of each member of the family. He not only changed the events of the previous day, but had also inserted a memory that, some months ago, Ant had applied for a scholarship to a prestigious college prep school in New England with parental consent.

At nearly seven, Ant decided there was no point trying to sleep and decided to busy himself on tasks that would put his parents in a good mood. First, he folded his blankets and put them and his pillow on their shelf in the hallway cupboard. Ant knew how to make their coffee the way they liked it, so next he prepared the coffee machine but did not start it yet – he didn't want to anger them by waking them too soon. He set the oven to preheat, then put away the dishes that had been washed the night previous – including the plate that Terrence had repaired with a flick of his wand.

"Not a trace of yesterday should remain," he had said. Ant thought of the books in his tote box, the ones Terrence had conjured with a twirling wave. They were nearly identical to the ones Mae had burned, if a little too new – they didn't have the spine-creasing that came of being read even once. Ant was sure that no one would notice though, since only he would have known his books so intimately.

He continued busying himself in the kitchen. He put biscuits on a baking tray to await the oven; he pulled out eggs and flour and breakfast sausage. And when the clock read 7:45, he began cooking in earnest. The biscuits went into the oven, the sausage into the heated saucepan on the stove. As the sausage cooked, Ant added flour and milk. It was a comfort food recipe his grandmother had loved, and taught Tony, who had in turn taught his children. As he started the coffee machine, Ant saw movement out of the corner of his eye and jumped. But it was only Frances, coming to help him cook.

She turned on the burner next to his and began preparing the eggs. Ant smiled sadly at her. He had wanted to let her keep the memories of the previous day, but Terrence had insisted it would only make things more difficult, and that Ant would have plenty of opportunities to tell her the truth later.

Frances saw the look on his face and asked, "What?" quizzically.

Ant shook his head, whispering, "I just felt like doing something nice. Thanks for helping." While he made the gravy, she cooked the eggs. It wasn't long before the smell of breakfast brought the whole apartment to wakefulness. Mae came into the kitchen and began pouring coffee for herself and Tony. Ant piped up, "Good morning," as she entered the kitchen.

Mae still seemed a bit blank, for it took her almost ten seconds to reply "Good morning" before carrying the coffees into the living room. When Ant made plates for his parents and took them into the living room, he saw Marie waiting expectantly for her food, despite the rule that the kids ate at the dining table. Ant made her a plate (because it would seem rude not to) but placed it on the dining table and called for Marie to come eat. She took her food back to the couch, but Ant and Frances ate at the dining table. They knew that if they followed, the rule would suddenly be enforced, and that Mae's and Marie's moods would take an instant turn for the worse, and that Marie had a gift for making others' good days into bad ones.

The kids left home around ten to go to the same park they'd gone to the day before. Ant had suggested it, because his parents were likely to be in a better mood if they could have time alone, without children underfoot in the small apartment. Terrence said he'd be back at one, so Ant did his best to keep his sisters at the park until fifteen minutes before. There was a large structure at the playground, a squashed-looking hemisphere about eight feet in diameter and five in height, made of metal bars in a pattern of hexagons and pentagons, like a soccer ball. Ant invented a variant of tag on the spot, where one person climbed the outside of the structure trying to tag those clinging to the inside of it. If those on the inside touched the ground, they were "it". This kept them at play long after his sisters got bored of the swings, until at last Ant saw it was a quarter to one and announced that he was hungry. Flushed, hands stinging from climbing the cold metal bars, they made their way home.

As yesterday, the kids made ramen for lunch to recover from the cold. Ant ate his noodles rather quickly, not having distracted himself with a book, and sipped at the hot broth while keeping an eye on the stovetop clock. The instant the digital display changed from 12:59 to 1:00, there was a crisp knock at the door.

Ant was seated closest to the door, so he answered it. Terrence stood there in a different suit, this one a rich, deep blue with cranberry trim, a cranberry-colored tie, and a pocket handkerchief in a blue-and-cranberry plaid. "Hi, how can I help you, sir?" Ant asked politely.

"Hello, you must be Anthony!" Terrence said, shaking his hand. "My name is Terrence Boot, and I'm here representing the Massachusetts College Preparatory School. We've reviewed your application and decided to send someone to your home to discuss it with your parents directly. Are they home at the moment?"

"Yes, sir," Ant said enthusiastically. Then he turned to face the living room and said, "Mom, Dad, there's someone here about that scholarship I applied for at the beginning of the school year!"

Tony turned off the television and rose, coming to the door. "Tony Acklin," he said, reaching out a hand. Terrence shook it and introduced himself, then introduced himself to Mae, saying, "Charmed, Mrs. Acklin."

Terrence pulled out an official-looking letter. He passed it to Ant, saying, "Go ahead, my boy, open it."

Ant read the envelope. It said it was from the Massachusetts College Preparatory School, all right, and it had a printed crest featuring a Celtic knot pattern and an address for the school on it. It was addressed to him. He tore the envelope carefully, extracting the letter. "Dear Mr. Acklin, we at MCPS are…" He paused, looking at his parents for dramatic effect, "pleased to inform you that your application to attend our school, as well as your application for financial tuition assistance, have been accepted." There was more information about textbook costs and fees, so he handed the letter to his father, beaming. Tony perused the list of charges that would not be covered by "financial assistance".

"Oh, congratulations, son!" Mae cried out joyfully. She stepped forward and hugged Ant.

There were papers to sign, approval to give on certain terms, travel plans to make. All of it was nonsense; Terrence had told Ant they'd be travelling to Ilvermorny by magic. And Ant went from having one of the worst days of his life to having, as he thought, one of the best.

Chapter Four

Before Start of Term

The next few months seemed to drag along, but when August arrived, Ant felt as if they had flown past.

He had returned to his Nomaj middle school a few days after his eleventh birthday, determined to keep his grades all A's for the new semester. While he knew his admission to Ilvermorny wasn't dependent on his grades here, his parents didn't, and he didn't want to see Mae's reaction if he came home with anything less than perfect grades. The classes themselves seemed unimportant, considering than in a few months he'd be learning magic, but they were easy enough, and he put in a great deal of effort to ensure that his parents thought it was too easy for him, too.

Winter limped on, scouring Las Vegas with high-speed winds but little precipitation until at last it broke in March. The city celebrated the few days of spring before the city (and surrounding desert) found itself suddenly oppressed under the weight of rising temperatures. As Ant walked home from school with his sisters each day, soaked with sweat, he looked forward to end of the summer and a new school year.

That summer held one more surprise, though: Tony's brother, Andy, passed through town on his way to visit another of their brothers, Brian, in Alaska. Somehow, Ant found himself part of the expedition, and after a few days of driving, Ant found himself on his uncle Brian's wooded parcel of land on the outskirts of a remote Alaska town. He performed a variety of chores his uncle Brian tried to disguise as games – Ant didn't fall for this, but nor did he mind; he could see the value of the chores he completed and was, for the first time in his home life, praised for work well done. He chopped and stacked firewood, he helped remove rocks from a large square of land surrounded by rebar poles tied with twine. When he wasn't doing chores, he wandered the woods near his uncles' trailer, never wandering too far, but never quite remaining within sight, either.

Those glorious summer days also brought another treat: a package sent from his grandmother, containing the newly-released fifth Harry Potter book. Ant could only read by sunlight – the only power they had was from a gas generator, and his uncle wouldn't waste that on mere reading light – but luckily, at those far northern latitudes, Ant was treated to twenty hours of sunlight each day and found himself finished with the book within a single day. Brian, whose adult sons had never shown interest in books, was so amazed at Ant's dedication to reading that he even allowed him a few days without chores. Ant found himself a cozy spot in the woods, where the branchless trunk of a fallen fir tree nestled up to a yew whose overgrown branches would protect him from any sudden rains long enough to protect his treasured book.

Ant read the book first for pleasure, then re-read it as if reading a textbook. He kept a notebook and pen with him and wrote down odd details that made him think, as well as making note of spells, incantations, and wand movements that were described. Knowing as he did that the stories within the books were biographical rather than fictional, he was determined to learn everything he could from them before going to Ilvermorny. Terrence had made it clear that Ilvermorny had few Nomaj-born students, and Ant was determined not to fall behind his classmates, who would surely have access to far more information about magic than he got from a few books.

Once the chore-free grace period was over, Ant found himself with less and less to do anyways, since his uncles had progressed to the point of laying the foundation and actually building the house that would stand within the square section Ant had helped clear of rocks. What was a patch of nondescript dirt one day was suddenly concrete, then the bones of a house, then a two-story structure built around the chimney of an iron wood-burning stove. Before long, the house was closed to the elements and Ant's uncles began the work of making the house habitable.

Summer in Alaska began shortening; before long, the sun was setting noticeably sooner. The days, never hot by Las Vegas standards to begin with, became cooler. Ant found himself simultaneously dreading returning home, but anxiously and excitedly awaiting what followed. It was mid-August when his uncle Andy drove him to the airport in Anchorage to fly back to Las Vegas, and when he stepped outside the airport, the heat struck him like a physical wall. He hadn't exactly missed it in Alaska.

Tony was there to greet his son, to help him get his baggage, and to discuss his experiences and show off his souvenirs (these included a variety of books given to him by Brian's neighbors, who found him precocious, a large, extremely soft roll of muskrat fur, and a vest comprised of several portions of moose leather bound together by long, thin strips of leather). After Ant had talked about every detail of the place, Tony filled him in on the events that happened in Las Vegas over the summer.

Frances was no longer living with Tony and Mae. One early summer day, she and Marie had taken a bus to the local pool, only to find themselves face-to-face with their biological mother, who hadn't recognized them, and who had cursed at them, asking _what the eff_ they were looking at. Frances' distress at being unrecognized by her own mother led to her dragging Marie off the bus. Nicole, who had been sitting elsewhere, recognized her sisters as they ran past but hadn't had time to stop them before they left the bus. She rushed back to Joanna to ask her if she had noticed her daughters on the bus, and this led Joanna to finding her ex-husband's home.

Frances and Marie explained this to their father, and sure enough, it was only a few days before Joanna came calling. Frances insisted on spending the summer anywhere else, as long as she didn't have to see Joanna. Frances had gone back to Florida to spend the summer with Mae's daughters, but after a month there had begged her father to let her stay and go to high school there. In the end, he had relented.

When Ant and his father got home, it was all hugs and celebration that the boy was back. His parents were mystified at how much he'd grown in the last two months; indeed, the only reason his feet would go into his shoes was that his shoes were falling apart. When they took him shopping, Ant's new shoes were four sizes larger than his previous pair. They bought him new jeans, no bigger in the waist but a couple inches longer in the leg. He got a few new shirts, some collared, some not. Ant felt like he was loved and valued for who he was, and almost wished he'd be around for more than two weeks.

For the day after Ant had returned from Alaska, a letter from Ilvermorny appeared. It contained a plane ticket for him as well as a list of textbooks and uniform items he'd be needing for school. The list of books, as Terrence had warned him, were mundane; not his actual textbooks, but a list meant to placate his parents' memories. The plane ticket was for the penultimate day of August; the flight, from McCarren Airport to Logan International Airport in Boston.

Those last two weeks seemed to drag along more slowly than the previous months had. Ant felt like he had spent a week packing his bags for Ilvermorny, only to find that thirteen days still remained before his flight. Daily he would reopen it, folding his clothes smaller to make room for books, against Mae's wishes.

Two days before his flight, Mae took Marie clothes-shopping. When they were gone, Tony presented Ant with a thick envelope. Ant peered inside it to find it full of crisp twenties. He looked up in a combination of awe and fear; he'd never held so much money before.

"That's for your textbooks and school uniforms. The letter said you'd have to pay for them at the school, so I wanted to make sure you had enough to get you through everything. Hide that in the bottom of your luggage. I don't want it disappearing before you leave. And buy yourself something cool with what's left over." With that, the discussion ended.

Ant couldn't sleep at all the night before his flight. He felt charged with energy. He occasionally dozed, but never for longer than an hour. The lights had been turned out at nine in the evening, and Ant had spent two and a half hours lying awake with his eyes closed, breathing peacefully as if asleep, the living embodiment of _fake it till you make it_. He opened his eyes at one point and saw the wall clock with its hands signifying that it was nearing midnight. When next he opened them, it was half past midnight. Then it was one in the morning, then quarter to two. He lay with his eyes open for half an hour, staring at the ceiling in silence and shadow, eyes occasionally darting to the clock, illuminated by a sliver of light that had slipped in between the blinds on the window.

At some point he fell asleep. He dreamed that he was standing in line to get through security at the airport, Terrence Boot just behind him. The line wasn't moving. The people in front of them turned, as one, to face Ant. He looked at Terrence behind him, to ask why they were even in line anyways, but it wasn't Terrence there when he turned. It was Mae, and she grasped his arm. Her mouth didn't move, but Ant could hear her voice whispering, "You don't belong there. They all know it as much as you, as much as I do. You're nothing special, you're ordinary, average. Maybe a little too smart for your own good, but it won't take you far. You'll settle for whatever cheapest college will have you, then take a low-paying job for convenience and end up stuck in it for life, just like your father. You'll never amount to anything, never be important. In the grand scheme of things, _you're nothing but an ant._ "

Chapter Five

Death Valley

Ant rose at dawn, unable to pretend to sleep any longer after having jolted awake from his dream. He put on jeans – somewhat inadvisable in Las Vegas heat, but he wouldn't be in Vegas much longer – and one of his new collared shirts. The shirt was a deep red, the jeans dark blue, reminding him of Terrence's suit in Ilvermorny's official colors. It wasn't long before he heard the alarm clock in his parents' room; Mae and Tony would be up soon. Ant decided to make things easier for them by starting the coffee, then he started getting things ready to cook. Someone entered the kitchen, and as much as he wished it was Frances joining him to help cook, he knew it was Mae getting her morning coffee. She rummaged in the fridge for creamer, made herself a cup wordlessly, then ruffled Ant's hair affectionately as she walked past him.

Ant made fried egg sandwiches for the four of them and plated them up; by the time Tony was dressed, they were ready to eat. Ant brought the sandwiches out to the living room, pushing Marie's blankets aside to give himself somewhere to sit on the couch. Silently daring someone to question his right to eat in the living room, Ant took the first bite of his sandwich. Warm food seemed to dispel some internal cold he hadn't realized was dampening his spirits. The fractured family ate in near silence, the rasp of toast and quiet chewing seeming to fill the apartment. At last, they were all finished. Marie gathered up the plates while Mae hugged Ant and told him to study hard and keep his grades up. Marie herself hugged him, saying, "I'll miss you."

Ant grabbed his luggage and he and Tony headed for the truck.

Twenty-five minutes later, Tony pulled his truck into a departure area and retrieved Ant's luggage from the bed of the truck. He walked around the truck slowly, postponing goodbye. When he got to Ant on the sidewalk, there were tears in Tony's eyes. Ant was surprised, but somewhat less surprised to find himself tearing up as well. Tony wrapped his son in a gruff, one-armed hug. "I'm proud of you. You worked so hard and got into a school like that, I never coulda. You'll never have to work a job like mine, that was my biggest hope for you." He placed the luggage on the sidewalk and held Ant by his shoulders at arm's length, inspecting his son as if memorizing him in preparation of comparing how much taller and older Ant might be when he came back. "I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

Tony released him and the two walked toward security together, where they would have to part. Ant kept his eyes on that distant security sign. At some point, Terrence appeared and greeted the pair of them. Ant greeted him back politely, but he paid little attention to the conversation between Terrence and his father. The reality of leaving his family was hitting him for some reason. He hadn't felt this way before leaving for Alaska. Wasn't this just another wonderful adventure? It wasn't like he'd never see them again. Then words popped unbidden into his head: _"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."_ He didn't know why Dumbledore's words had popped into his head. Nobody was dying. But he had some feeling of dread that just wasn't leaving him. He broke from his reverie when he realized that he was less than a foot from the labyrinth of barriers that marked the beginning of the security line.

Ant looked to his father and hot tears began spilling from his eyes again. "I'll miss you," he muttered. Tony hugged his son again, a firmer hug encircling his son with both arms.

"I'll miss you too, buddy. Go to that school and show 'em what you got. Make me even prouder. I love you."

"Love you too."

They both paused a moment while Ant furiously wiped the tears from his face with the balls of his hands. Then they looked each other in the eyes, Tony's bright blue and Ant's a murky brown-green, and they said goodbye. Tony stood there, watching his son weave through the barriers to get to the security gate, until an airport employee came to tell him he needed to move his truck before they called a tow.

Ant didn't pay attention to his surroundings again until they were at the security gate. There was not much of a line this early. As they got to the gate, Terrence whispered to Ant, "Play along," and then addressed the security guard.

"Excuse me, there's been some kind of mistake. I just had our tickets printed out, but these are for Boston; we're supposed to be going to New York." The security guard inspected the tickets, tapped away at his computer, and nodded.

"Sorry, sir. Happens every once in a while. If you can go back to the desk, they'll take care of it." He gestured toward a long service desk with our airline's logo above it.

They exited the security line to go around. Terrence quietly explained, "We'll be Apparating to get your school things, they only bought these tickets so your parents wouldn't question things. The school wrote the money off, but I figured we could refund them and get you a little extra financial assistance, yeah?" He grinned at Ant, and Ant couldn't help but grin back.

Terrence was able to get the tickets refunded pretty easily, and passed the money off to Ant. As they walked away from the desk, Terrence quietly mused on the folly of Muggles and their paper money. As they walked, they came to an alcove where they were hidden from three sides, and only visible if someone stopped on the fourth side and looked directly at them. Terrence led Ant to the alcove.

"Apparating isn't exactly pleasant. You'll want to hold my arm, tight. Take a deep breath and exhale all the way. I'll turn on the spot, and you must keep a tight grip on my arm. Got it?" When Ant nodded, Terrence surreptitiously waved his wand in an overhead circle, saying, " _Muffliato_. That'll stop the Mug – uh, Nomajes from hearing us Disapparate and thinking there's been a gunshot or something. Deep breath, now."

Ant took his arm, inhaled deeply, and slowly released the entire breath. When his lungs were empty and straining of air, Terrence twisted on the spot. Ant redoubled his grip, but he couldn't let go if he'd wanted; he felt as though the air had compressed around him, squeezing his chest, pressing on his closed eyes, stopping him from moving at all.

Then the pressure released, and Ant took a deep, shuddering breath of hot, clean desert air. He opened his eyes to see that they were in the middle of nowhere. It was almost unbearably hot. There were scrub brushes around, but no sign of other life. All around them the air rippled in a heat haze. In the distance, Ant thought he could see a large fountain, but he knew that in the desert, such things didn't exist. It was a mirage.

"Right then," said Terrence, walking towards the fountain. "Let's get going." And after a few steps, he disappeared into the rippling air. Ant stared, dumbstruck, for a moment before rushing after him. The heat haze didn't seem to retreat: he closed in on the rippling spot and was through it in an instant.

On the other side, the air was cool, but not cold. It felt like the desert at night. Ahead was the large fountain Ant had glimpsed through the curtain of rippling air. On either side, shops lined the street. It reminded him of an Old West town from movies, but the shops weren't sarsaparilla bars and shady saloons. There was an apothecary, a bookshop, a boutique, a store that sold Quidditch supplies, and many more that Ant couldn't really discern the purpose of without stopping, which Terrence didn't seem to want to do. He led Ant to the end of the road, where a lone building, painted a gleaming white, had two wizard guards outside. They nodded and allowed the two to pass.

There were a few wizards inside, waiting for appointments, Ant guessed. A human teller, red-haired and pretty, waved them forward as they entered. Ant started digging in his luggage for his envelope of cash, then resumed walking. The teller smiled at him when Terrence explained to her that he would be exchanging dollars for dragots. Ant noticed her nametag, which said LYDIA MUNKEN on it.

"First time in the First Bank of MACUSA, hon?" she asked, her voice showing off a hint of a southern drawl.

"First time in anything magic," Ant replied. "What's muhkooza?"

"Magical Congress of the United States of America," Terrence answered crisply while Ant began laying out his money.

All told, Ant had a little over $900: five hundred from his father, and four hundred and change from the refunded plane tickets. Ant tucked five twenties into his wallet but pushed the remainder forward to be exchanged. Lydia swept up the money, running her wand over the disarrayed pile. "All right, eight hundred twenty-six dollars comes out to two hundred forty-eight dragots and seventy-nine sprinks." Ant assumed she'd push a stack of coins at him, but she pushed a plastic card across the counter instead. "Sign that."

Ant picked up a fountain pen from the counter and wrote his name in cursive on the front of the card. The black ink seemed to sink straight into the plastic. After a second, it glowed bright blue, then he saw his name printed there: ANTHONY ALBERT ACKLIN. He lifted the card and inspected it; as he tilted it, the printed name melted back into his signature. It restored itself to print when he looked directly at the name again.

"Give it back one more second," Lydia told him. She waved her wand over it again then handed it back. "Now it's got your balance on it. You can use that at any store operated by a witch or wizard."

"Thank you, Ms. Munken," he said as Terrence waved his goodbye. She beamed at him and waved goodbye.

As they exited the bank, Terrence began remarking that Ant would have an easy time of buying his school things with that amount of money, but Ant absently cut him off.

"Terrence, how different is America from England? In terms of wizards, I mean?"

He considered before responding. "I'm not sure how much exposure you've had to English culture, but the wizarding community here is quite as different from the U.K. as the Mug – ah, Nomaj culture is."

"Pretty much all I know about the U.K. I learned from the Harry Potter books. And I know you like tea and the Queen."

He laughed at this. "That we do, Anthony. Well, if truth be told, the wizards here are typically a bit more… suspicious" (Ant suspected the word "paranoid" had been Terrence's first choice there) "of Nomajes. Wizarding culture here was hounded by the Scourers, traitorous wizards who teamed up with Nomajes and thought they had a calling to stamp out magic forever. So, wizards went into hiding, forbidden to even consort with Nomajes, and the Scourers congratulated themselves on a job well done. Well, most, I expect. You'll learn in History of Magic that the Scourers never really believed their work was done. In here first," he added, steering Ant towards a bookshop.

Inside, Ant found copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , _Chadwick's Charms_ ("Get the boxed set of all seven," Terrence said, "save you some time and money down the road."), _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , _A History of Western Wizardry_ , _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , and _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. Other books that caught his eye were _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , so Ant grabbed those as well. Ant paid a little under twenty-eight dragots for his books. "A lot of the textbooks are the same as those at Hogwarts," Terrence mentioned. "Ilvermorny takes a lot of inspiration from Hogwarts, things like prefects and Houses and the House Cup."

On the way to the exit, another book caught Ant's eye. It was a rather small, leather-bound book with a cord of leather tied around it in an intricate knot. The clerk, seeing his interest, said, "That's a journal. Blank on the inside. Knot only comes undone for the owner. Two sprinks if you want it."

Ant did, so he paid for the journal and tucked it in with his other books.

They visited several of the other shops as well, getting Potions ingredients, a cauldron, scales, a collapsible telescope for Astronomy, then Ant's school uniforms. It was rather less like robes than it was a navy-blue suit with dark red ("Cranberry", Terrence insisted, "always call it cranberry.") tie and a Celtic knot symbol that Terrence informed him was called a Gordian Knot, and the insignia of the school. Ant was looking forward to getting his wand, though, and was sorely disappointed when Terrence pronounced their shopping spree over before they found a wand shop.

"Oh, no, you don't get your wand until school!" Terrence said. "Haven't I told you? That'll be right after your Sorting."

"Sorting? So are Ilvermorny's Houses like Hogwarts?"

"Well, _like_ Hogwarts, sure. But they're not the same Houses. You've got Great Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Pukwudgie. They're named after creatures. You'll get a good idea of what they're about before the Sorting."

Ant absorbed this quietly. He had suddenly envisioned himself stuck in Slytherin House and barely repressed a shudder. "And I get a wand after?"

"That's right."

"What do you do at Ilvermorny?"

Terrence raised an eyebrow. "I knew you'd get there eventually. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. How could I not, being a former member of Dumbledore's Army?"

" _Dumbledore's Army_? You're – you're – _Terry_ Boot?"

"That's _Professor_ Boot to you now, isn't it?" he laughed.

"Yes, sir. But you know all about-"

"Let's curb that discussion for now. Save that for History of Magic. For now, we're going to find you a place to stay the night."

"We're not going to the school tonight?" Ant asked curiously.

"Nah, they wouldn't know where to put you, not being sorted yet. We'll get there tomorrow, you'll get Sorted into your House before the Welcome Feast, then term starts the next morning. It's rather like Hogwarts in that regard."

"And will we be Apparating with all my stuff?" Ant wasn't sure the teetering pile atop his luggage would survive Apparation.

"No, we'll get you a room at the inn here and have them send your non-essentials on. Just keep one of your school uniforms to wear for the Sorting and feast."

They arrived at the inn, an adobe building that seemed much larger inside than from without. Ant had a separate room from Terrence, who'd be sleeping next door to him. Ant set aside his uniform for tomorrow, his journal, his Defense textbook, and a ball-point pen (he'd gotten the standard fountain pens and ink bottles, too, but felt that this would be more convenient on occasion) and allowed the concierge to take the rest of his luggage to be shipped to Ilvermorny.

Ant inspected his room carefully. There was a large, hard-looking bed with ample pillows, blankets, and sheets; a small table with two chairs; a hamper for dirty clothes that buzzed when he touched it; a bathroom with a massive claw-footed tub with a curtain and shower option, a toilet, and a sink with an ornate mirror. He took off his clothes, dropping them into the hamper, which quivered alarmingly, then took a shower. There were a variety of soaps and shampoos, so he tried the simplest looking ones, which made him smell like a forest after rain. When he got out, he put on the fluffy robe hanging from the bathroom door and noticed that his clothes – which he had definitely put in the hamper before showering – were folded atop it, warm as if fresh from the dryer. They were soft and smelled of soap.

He spent the next hour writing in the journal, everything from Terrence – _Professor Boot_ , he reminded himself – showing up before New Year's Eve all the way to today, and the village in Death Valley. Then he started reading _The Dark Forces_ , paying particular attention to the spells described in the book; Ant wanted a head start, thinking it would put him on par with the wizard-born students. He began copying notes and wand motion diagrams on even pages of the journal, while his fledgling memoirs occupied the odd. He got through the first three chapters before calling it quits for the night, considering the long day he'd have tomorrow.

Due to their evening arrival time, however, they didn't leave early; in fact, Ant woke up early and continued outlining his book, only interrupted when Professor Boot knocked on his door at eight. He opened the door with journal in hand, and Professor Boot pushed in a cart with two breakfast trays. "We won't be leaving for a bit, so I thought you'd want breakfast." He laid out breakfast on the small table, noticing Ant's textbook open to the fifth chapter. "Getting ahead, I see."

Ant sat his journal down too, and Professor Boot looked at it and barked a laugh. "Really doing the thing properly, aren't you? Remind me at school to teach you how to prevent that book from filling up, if you do this for all your classes you'll be needing a trunk full of them by the end of the year." Ant wrote a reminder down in the book and turned to breakfast.

"Thanks for bringing this," he said as he began cutting a ham steak.

"Of course. Breakfast is on Ilvermorny's dime, just like the room itself."

Ant asked more questions about the classes at Ilvermorny. It turned out all of the same classes that were offered at Hogwarts were offered at Ilvermorny as well, with the addition of a few extras. "Some of the advanced classes – sixth and seventh year – offer additional courses. So, if you start Divination in your third year, and continue it at the advanced levels, you might take Xylomancy in sixth year. Or if you're particularly gifted at Transfiguration and want to become an Animagus, you can take that as an elective alongside Transfiguration in seventh year."

Ant was intrigued by the idea of becoming an Animagus. He thought it over as he chewed.

"Electives are a bit different from Hogwarts, though. Second year you'll take some aptitude tests that gauge whether you have what it takes for the classes – nothing serious for most of them, hard work and study will get you far – then you're allowed to choose between those you have an aptitude for."

When they finished, Professor Boot asked Ant if he wanted to continue his studies or get a look at the village. "Death Valley is one of a very few all-wizard settlements. American wizards like to pick remote places and shield them with magic."

Ant did want to see more of the town, so they continued trekking through it, stopping in all the shops. There was a Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Professor Boot had to drag Ant away from the broom displays. "You're not allowed your own broom at Ilvermorny. Even the Quidditch team uses brooms that belong to the school, it's fairer that way." Many of the shops were very specialized, and Ant was mystified by all the items whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess at. There was an animal shop as well, but Ant merely admired them and chose not to buy one. He couldn't take an owl home, anyways.

Past noon, they stopped at a café and ate lunch on the terrace. Ant ate while looking off into the distance, trying to see if he could spot the dome of protective enchantments that blocked Death Valley Town from Nomaj eyes. After lunch, they returned to the inn, where Ant finished chapters five and six of his textbook then showered and dressed in his Ilvermorny uniform. He had never tied a tie before, and he was on the point of going to Professor Boot's room to ask for help, but when he placed the tie around his neck it swirled to life, tying itself perfectly in a double Windsor. Ant picked up his jacket to put it on but felt something moving in one of the pockets. He unbuttoned the pocket, and a piece of gold, thin and about two inches long, featuring a circle of unblemished gold on one side, zoomed out of the pocket and affixed itself to his tie between the third and fourth buttons of his shirt. He laughed from the sheer exhilaration of seeing magic in action.

When four o'clock arrived, Professor Boot knocked at his door and told him it was time to go. Ant put his two books in the pocket of his jacket that the tie clasp had come out of; they didn't leave a bulge in the jacket at all. They went out to the lobby and informed the concierge that they were departing, then Ant took Professor Boot's arm and took one more ride into compressing darkness.

Chapter Six

Sorting and Choosing

Ant felt considerably cooler as soon as the darkness faded. He opened his eyes to find himself in a castle courtyard, surrounded by low stone walls, overlooking a series of mountains – by the standards of someone who had seen the Rockies, these were glorified hills – and valleys. It was not quite sunset. Since there was no time delay in Apparating, as far as Ant knew, he assumed they'd gone a couple time zones east. As he looked around the courtyard, he saw a mass of other kids his age, and separated himself from Professor Boot immediately.

"Thanks for the ride, Professor," he said, hoping that it sounded as cool to the others as it had in his head.

Professor Boot smiled and gestured to the fortress-like castle ahead. "I've got to go in, but you won't have to wait long for the Sorting." Speaking louder, he addressed them all. "It shouldn't be much more than twenty minutes before someone comes out to escort you to the Sorting. I recommend you take this time to get to know each other. The friends you make at Ilvermorny will be your friends, coworkers, and allies throughout life." He winked at Ant and turned away, through the tall lacquered wooden doors behind him.

Ant looked around at the crowd of students. He guessed there were about fifty of them in the courtyard. Near him was a boy with golden blond hair, pale green eyes, and a round, friendly face. Ant moved toward him and the boy held out his hand.

"Donhold Rappaport," the boy said.

"Donald?"

"Don _hold_. There's an 'h' in there."

"Sorry. I'm Ant Acklin."

" _Ant_?"

"It's Anthony, technically, but my dad goes by 'Tony', so my family just took to calling me Ant."

The boy nodded appreciatively at this. "Any idea which House you'll be sorted into?"

Ant froze for a moment, then spoke. "Professor Boot told me about the Houses, but he didn't really have time to tell me what each one means."

Donhold accepted this in stride, and he began explaining the philosophies of the four Houses. "Well, there's Pukwudgie. It's named after a creature that's like a goblin or house elf. They stand for the heart of a wizard. Apparently, they make good Healers. Then there's Thunderbird, which stands for the soul of a wizard and makes adventurers. Wampus represents the body of a wizard, and makes warriors, and last is Great Horned Serpent, which stands for the mind."

"Oh. I don't know. I guess I'll just take what they throw at me."

Donhold laughed. "Go with the flow, huh? I like that. Maybe we'll end up in the same house."

After this, Ant turned to meet more of the students. There was a girl with tanned skin and black hair. She introduced herself as Isla Santiago. She had a look about her that suggested she might rip the arm off someone who tried to stand in her way. Ant decided it'd be best not to be her enemy.

He also met a boy named Mario Abrantes, who looked very serious with his hair carefully combed and his stoic expression; a girl named Basimah Lakhani, whose eyes reminded him of Marie's, but looked gold flecked with blue rather than the other way around; and a variety of other students. After a while, he found that he had only retained the first few students' names. He was shaking the hand of Shaun Brandt, a brown-haired boy with slim features and an easy, lopsided smile, when the doors opened again. Ant stood on tiptoe to better see who had opened it.

"Well, get in, then," grumbled the creature. It was about two and a half feet tall, with grey skin and bat-like ears set rather lower on its head than human ears. The students shuffled into the entrance hall. In front of them was the school's emblem, the Gordian Knot, on the floor. Directly in front of it, between two staircases that joined above the statue, stood a carving featuring the creatures the Houses were named for. There was a balcony above, teeming with staff and older students. The first-year students filed around the walls, not wanting to get much closer to the center of the room. As the door closed behind the last of them, a dark-skinned elderly woman made her way about halfway down the grand flight of stairs, until she was standing immediately above the statue. Ant saw her dark but greying hair was done up in many small braids.

"When I call your names, you will step forward onto the Gordian Knot and be chosen by a House. Afterwards, you will proceed through the door on your left," (she gestured at it with her right hand) "and you will be chosen once more, this time by your wand. Abrantes, Mario."

Mario Abrantes stepped forward with a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he looked upon the statue. There was a moment of expectant silence, then part of the statue came to life: the Pukwudgie raised an arrow in salute. Above on the balcony, a quarter of the students roared their approval of the new addition to their House. Mario hurriedly moved toward the wand room.

Next "Acaba, Renata" stepped forward. Instantly, the thunderbird carving came to life, beating its wings with a screech. The Thunderbird students above applauded and Renata raised a fist triumphantly, half-skipping her way to the wand room.

Ant was already moving before the witch on the stairs started saying his name. He knew he was early on the list and doubted a group this small would have any names between "Acaba" and "Acklin." The witch waited for him to stop moving before she announced his name questioningly, to which he nodded in confirmation.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, during which Ant had just enough time to wonder how long it'd take before they just kicked him out, when the wampus, a large cat-like creature, roared its approval at the same time the Great Horned Serpent writhed and illuminated its horn. Nobody had told Ant what to do if more than one statue reacted. There was a lot of muttering from the gallery above, and even the dark-skinned woman seemed surprised.

After a moment, she addressed Ant. "Choose your house," she called in grand tones.

Ant looked between the wampus and the serpent. Wampus created warriors, while Great Horned Serpent created… what? He hadn't been told. But something about the snake carving bothered Ant. He recalled that another magical school's house with a serpent emblem turned out many Dark wizards. So, he made his choice based on that knowledge: "I choose Wampus!"

The Wampus students roared twice as loud as the previous two houses. Ant exhaled deeply and moved quickly from the hot seat, toward the door to the wand room.

On the other side of the lacquered oak door was an expansive, cathedral-like room. It was silent here. Ant couldn't see the students who'd gone in ahead of him. It was like a library, with rows and rows of shelves, each packed with partially unboxed wands. A hand-made sign sat near the entrance that read, "Find your wand from the masses. You will know when it chooses you."

Ant walked through the rows like he would in a library, inspecting the shelves with a roving eye and stopping to give more attention when something caught his fancy. He handled over a dozen wands on shelves of varying heights. None of them felt like they had chosen him. He moved deeper into the room, where the shadows and dust seemed to grow thicker. There were fewer wands on these shelves. Ant moved more slowly, inspecting each in turn. When he reached the last shelf in the row, there were only three wands on it. He looked closely at them, then lifted one of the wands, which was redder in color and looked more natural and less manufactured than the other two. It had what appeared to be petrified plant bulbs along its length, and a slight forward curve; if held vertically, the tip would be angled away from the wielder's face.

As soon as the wand was drawn fully from its box, the box snapped shut and the wand released a burst of heat into Ant's palm. The wand tip glowed a warm red color, as did the bulbs along its length. When the light faded, Ant knew he had found his wand. He placed it carefully in the right side of his jacket, where a wand pocket was sewn specifically to assist the left-handed boy.

Ant turned to leave but jumped in shock when he saw he wasn't alone. An impossibly ancient-looking Pukwudgie stood there silently. He chuckled when Ant jumped in fright.

"Thirteen-and-a-quarter inches. California redwood. Jackalope antler core. This wand, boy, was the last wand ever made by the hands of Isolt Sayre. Treat it well, and it will treat you well back." The Pukwudgie turned and stumped away slowly. Ant heard him murmuring, "Oh, Isolt, how your school has grown. You'd be so proud."

Ant moved in the direction the Pukwudgie had, but he when he turned the same corner, there was no one there. He did, however, see a sign for an exit. He followed this to a large double door with no knobs. He pushed on the wood; it didn't budge. He paused for a moment, thinking, then a lightbulb came on in his head. He said, "Oh!" and drew his wand. Presented with a wand and the wizard it had chosen, the doors opened.

Ant found himself – disconcertingly – on the second floor, behind a group of older students. They turned to greet him when they saw the door opening, and some of them rushed to shake his hand. He had taken quite a while to find his wand; he heard the name "Quentin, Randall" called, then chosen by Thunderbird. One of the students who greeted him, a tall, well-built black boy, wore a badge with an identical but smaller Wampus on it. He whispered to Ant as he shook his hand. "Peter Tailor. I'm one of the Prefects for Wampus House. You may not know this, but it's really rare someone gets chosen by more than one House – I'm sure you're gonna do really well in Wampus."

"Thanks," Ant said, smiling weakly at him. He was amazed and a little terrified that so many people already had high expectations of him. To be sure, he had high expectations for himself, but if he disappointed himself, he'd just feel motivated to try harder. He didn't think the others would be as forgiving if he disappointed them, too.

"Rappaport, Donhold!" There was a sharp intake of breath. Utter silence filled the room at the sound of the name "Rappaport". Ant was on the verge of asking why, but Peter pushed his way to the railing to see Donhold for himself. There were three seconds of strained silence and then the unmistakable sound of the Wampus's roar, followed by gasps. Ant saw the carving through the shifting mass in front of him and understood why: The Great Horned Serpent's horn was glowing, the Thunderbird was flapping its wings, and the Wampus looked down expectantly at Donhold. The whispers started up again: who would he pick? Which of the three Houses? How rare was it for two students to be chosen by more than one house? How rare was it for a student to be chosen by _three_? Then the whispers suddenly died as Donhold's voice, thin and quavering, said, "I choose Wampus!"

It was like an explosion. The Wampus students were whooping, stomping, and clapping. Ant joined in, glad to have at least one familiar face in the dormitory.

Donhold found his wand rather quickly and made his way up to the gallery. By the time he arrived, Isla Santiago had been chosen by Great Horned Serpent and the witch, who Peter told him was the headmistress, Professor Eulalie Hicks, was down to the last three students, who turned out to be "Tripplet, Clayton" (Pukwudgie), "Unfeldt, Inara" (Thunderbird), and "Villanueva, Vicente" (Wampus, to delighted cheers). The students turned from the balcony to face the doors behind each group and waited for the last students to be chosen by their wands and make it to the gallery. Once Vicente Villanueva stepped through the door, it closed itself behind him and melted into the stone wall. The prefects then announced, "To the Dining Hall!" and led the way down the stairs to the Welcome Feast.

Chapter Seven

Son of a Scourer

The next morning was Monday, September the first, and the official start of term. Ant was quite excited to begin his classes and was dressed and ready to go down to breakfast while his dormmates, Donhold and Vicente, were still blinking the sleep from their eyes.

He made his way to the Wampus Student Lounge, which was all on one level and featured the boys' dorms on one side and the girls' on the other. The lounge itself featured study tables with benches, couches, and comfortable chairs. The room was lit via windows in the roof, which Ant was sure were enchanted, because they were only on the third floor of at least seven.

Despite it being early on the first morning, the Wampus Lounge was already alive with activity. A few third-year students were practicing dueling stances under the watchful eye of a seventh-year prefect. One second-year girl was building a structure like a house of cards, but from textbooks, using her wand to carefully lift and place the books. The house was already six levels high. Off to one side of her house, a third-year boy was Transfiguring a pen into a bowling ball. On the first attempt Ant witnessed, the bowling ball was made of lightweight plastic, and when the boy lifted it, ink oozed out onto his fingers.

Ant spied Peter and walked over to him. "Good morning!"

"Morning, Ant. On your way down to breakfast?"

"Yeah, if I can remember the way," Ant said. He was pretty sure he'd get there eventually, but if Ilvermorny was anything like what he'd read of Hogwarts, he didn't want to wander through it blindly.

"Come along with me, I'm about to take a group of girls down there." He gestured over his shoulder. Ant recognized the girls but didn't know their names. "Hold on while I talk to Felicity."

Peter walked over to a different girl. She was short and curvy, with tightly-curled brown hair and a friendly face. Like Peter, she wore a Prefect's badge on her chest. They shared a few quick words, during which Ant introduced himself to the first-year girls. One girl, Elen, was tall for her age, at least half a foot taller than Ant. She had a thin face, blue eyes, and a confident smile. Lunetta shook Ant's hand next; the first thing he noticed about her was that she was very dark-skinned and very pretty. She moved gracefully, like a dancer, and had her hair drawn back tightly into a bun that seemed to explode into a large, puffy ball of hair. Then Ant met Audra, a girl with olive skin and red hair who seemed very shy. The last of the girls was Adrienne, whose sleek-looking hair fell in waves down her back. She glared at Ant suspiciously and seemed to be about to open her mouth to ask him something when Peter returned to guide them outside. Adrienne changed her mind, apparently, but Ant was sure he'd hear whatever she had to say eventually.

As they departed the lounge, Ant heard the telltale crash that told him the boy had succeeded in not only Transfiguring his pen into a bowling ball, followed by curse words and incantations being shrieked by the girl whose book house now lay in piles all around her.

At breakfast, a stocky wizard in dirt-stained robes that had once been navy and cranberry handed out schedules. Ant looked over his in anticipation while the wizard, who Ant guessed was Herbology teacher Professor Sunley, argued with an older Wampus student about whether to take Herbology or have a morning period free. He wasn't sure what to make of his schedule, which featured Magical Theory and History of Magic bookending each school day, and the other classes split up between Monday/Wednesday, Tuesday/Thursday, or else on Friday. Ant noted that Friday mornings after Magical Theory were devoted to Flying lessons, which made him feel excited and anxious.

Donhold and Vicente arrived just after Professor Sunley had chased the sixth-year boy away from the table, still arguing about Herbology. Peter, who had taken their schedules when Professor Sunley had given him his own, passed them on. Seeing Ant's bemused face, Peter took a look at his schedule and began commentating on it.

"Theory first thing in the morning isn't bad, it's just a lot of lecture and notes. Charms and Defense, that's a pretty good morning every day of the week." He inspected the afternoon classes next. "Transfiguration is rough, but you shouldn't have too much issue with it. And History of Magic… well, let's just say you'll be glad not to have to take it every day after first year."

Ant wasn't sure what to make of that – he enjoyed his History classes at his Nomaj school – but nodded along with Peter anyways. It wasn't long before he accepted the truth of Peter's words, however.

By the end of the week, what struck Ant the most about his classes were how in-sync the curricula were with each other. Their lessons in Charms and Defense felt like they were directly built upon what they had learned in the class period previous, during Magical Theory. Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions all emphasized the importance of theory and the positions of stars, planets, and moons in spellcasting, plant-growing, and potion brewing before Ant and his classmates learned about how to chart those important celestial bodies in Astronomy on Friday nights. The only two classes that seemed disassociated from the others were Flying and History of Magic.

Flying was an experience unto itself. The students spent the first lesson, outside the grove of wand-wood trees on a level area of Mount Greylock's northern face, learning how to polish, trim, and stow the school brooms. Mister Castle, who taught Flying and was the school's Quidditch referee, told them all about how he, Professor Spaulding, and her brother worked together to build the school's fleet of brooms from those trees whose wood was magical, but not of wand quality. Each of the brooms had identical specifications, which he said were about middle-of-range for a moderately expensive broom, and which allowed the school's Quidditch games to be on a much more even level than some schools, which allowed wealthier students the advantage of buying better brooms. The class was disappointed that they wouldn't be flying any time soon – some students, like Donhold, a Great Horned Serpent boy named Landon, and Lunetta Frank were especially disappointed, as they had grown up flying and were keen to show off. Despite all this, Ant swelled with pride when Mister Castle showed the class his broom's tail twigs, showing how well Ant had done to remove as little as possible while clipping off split ends and keeping the tail even and tidy-looking.

History of Magic, though, was as unpleasant as Peter had implied. It wasn't that the class was boring, as Ant had suspected Peter meant, or that it was difficult, even; Professor Lowell just seemed to take vindictive pleasure in terrorizing his students. He would call on students to read passages from the textbook, and if they made a mistake in reading it would cost them House points. If a student answered a question incorrectly, or without enough detail, they lost House points. Professor Lowell didn't even seem biased towards a particular House. At the end of the week's last History lesson on Friday afternoon, each of the Houses had lost at least twenty points in the first-year class alone, although no House had lost more than Wampus.

Ant suspected it was the look on his face, Wednesday afternoon, when Professor Lowell started talking about Scourers, that had caused the professor to pick on him. Ant had been curious to learn more about the Scourers, who they were, and what they had done to send the wizarding community so far into hiding. Lowell had lectured dispassionately on how the Scourers considered themselves the first wizarding enforcers of rule of law in the New World. He explained how the organization succumbed to corruption, abusing their power to take what they wanted and turning their wizarding enemies over to Nomajes for execution. The Scourers went as far as to incite the Witch Trials, which allowed them to abuse the Nomajes' fears to settle personal vendettas.

Then Professor Lowell talked about how the American wizards formed a government to bring the Scourers to justice, and how many Scourers escaped by pretending to be Nomajes and hiding their magic. Professor Lowell snapped his book shut at this point, then glared in turn at Kevin, a boy from Thunderbird Ant had met in Charms, Shaun, who Ant had met before the Sorting and who sat on Ant's right in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and lastly at Ant himself. He spent the next part of his lecture explaining how the Scourers had trained their descendants to follow in their footsteps, looking only at those three boys until the rest of the class had also realized which students he was staring at. Then, he seemingly changed the subject.

"Incidentally, studies undertaken in various nations around the world show that wizards born to Nomaj parents often have a secret wizarding parent somewhere back in their family tree. I wonder whether that's true of our own Nomaj-born compatriots," he continued with a nasty smile.

Kevin's face was blank, as if he didn't understand what was being implied. Shaun's face went pink, but he kept his expression carefully under control. Ant narrowed his eyes in anger. Students were turning to look at him from all over the classroom, including, he noticed, the smug-looking Adrienne he had met that morning. He could tell she believed the professor's implication that he was descended from Scourers. Ant didn't know whether he was, and he didn't care; he felt it was unfair to judge someone by the actions of someone who lived two centuries before.

"Have something to say, Mister…" Professor Lowell checked his register, "Acklin?"

"No, sir," Ant replied, politely but firmly.

"A question from me, then," Lowell said, smiling. "In what year was Rappaport's Law enacted?"

Ant stared blankly. He remembered someone mentioning it but didn't know anything about the law. "I don't know, Professor."

"That's disappointing. Even a Nomaj-born student should be aware of the MACUSA's laws. Five points from Wampus. The law was enacted in 1790." There was a sharp intake of breath from the Wampus students. He had only taken a single point at a time from other students. "Let's try again, shall we? What was the main subject of Rappaport's Law?"

Ant wracked his brains, trying to recall what Professor Boot had said about the law. It came rushing back after a moment. _Nomaj-born wizards are exceptionally rare in the States as it is, due to Rappaport's Law_. "Rappaport's Law," Ant guessed, "separated the magical and Nomaj communities." Under the table at which they sat, Donhold placed a note in Ant's lap. It read, _repealed 1965_.

"Simplistic but generally correct. Another five points from Wampus." At this, there was outrage. Even the students from other Houses were protesting. Professor Lowell held up a hand and waited for silence. When the students settled down, he said, "Another five points from each of your Houses, and it'll be fifty if someone speaks out again." Nobody in the class even dared breathe loudly. Lowell then turned to Donhold and Ant, and said, "I asked Mister Acklin, not Mister Rappaport, so I don't appreciate him passing notes giving answers to the student who didn't bother learning anything about the world he was entering into." He pointed his wand at Ant, and the note reading _repealed 1965_ flew off his lap into Professor Lowell's hand. Ant looked directly into his eyes, mentally standing his ground. _He's not Mae_ , Ant thought. _He can't hurt you_. "Your Scourer ancestors would be disappointed at how little effort you've put into this, Acklin," he said, igniting the note with the tip of his wand.

Half an hour later, when Peter asked the first-year boys why Wampus had lost fifteen points, Ant was still too angry to explain. Donhold looked uneasily between Peter and Ant, opening his mouth and closing it as if constantly changing his mind about whether to speak. After fifteen seconds of this, Vicente interrupted it. "Professor Lowell accused Ant and a couple other students of being descended from Scourers. Then he asked Ant a bunch of questions. He took five points for getting one wrong, then five points for getting one right, but Donhold had passed him a note, so he said they were cheating. But when he took points away for getting it right, almost everybody got mad at him, so he took five more points from every House."

"Did you pass him the answers?" Peter asked Donhold.

"Well, yeah, kinda, but not really." Donhold said, looking shifty.

"How could you _kinda_ pass him the answers?" Peter asked exasperatedly.

At this, Ant finally spoke up, defiance in his voice. "Professor Lowell asked when Rappaport's Law was enacted. I didn't know, so he took five points. Then he asked what the law was for. I answered, and got it right, then Donhold put a note in my lap saying the law was repealed in 1965."

"I thought he would ask that next, and that you didn't know. Sorry," Donhold said, looking sheepish.

Peter sighed softly. "Giving answers to a student when the teacher has asked for them is right on the edge of cheating. Giving answers the professor hasn't asked for isn't though. I can't get your points back, but you should be careful around Lowell." He walked away, leaving them alone.

Ant spent the rest of Friday afternoon until dinner continuing to outline his books. He had finished _The Dark Forces_ on Tuesday and had started the first volume of _Chadwick's Charms_ immediately, but Wednesday's History of Magic class had convinced him set it aside to start _A History of Western Wizardry_ instead. He intended to have the outline completed before they saw Lowell again on Monday. After dinner, he resumed this until it was time to leave for Astronomy. He had expected Astronomy to take place at the top of the highest tower, as it did at Hogwarts. There wasn't a classroom number on the schedule, so Ant had asked Vicente during lunch that day where to find it.

"I heard Felicity telling girls to meet her in the entrance hall tonight around ten-thirty. She's probably going to show them the way then," he responded.

So, at half past ten that night, the Wampus boys found themselves in the entrance hall a short distance from the girls. Lunetta waved cheerfully at the boys. Ant and Vicente waved back; Donhold smiled shyly. Adrienne glared at Ant, as if it was his fault Lunetta had waved, then at Lunetta for being friendly with him. Lunetta acted as if she couldn't see the look on Adrienne's face. Again, Ant had a feeling that Adrienne intended to say something to him, but a painting next to the door to the wand room swung on its hidden hinges, revealing Felicity coming down a flight of stairs.

"Oh, you guys made it too. Good, I wasn't sure if Peter knew that you'd need directions. The Astronomy meeting area is outside." Felicity gathered them all behind her like ducklings and headed out into the cool night air. She led them a short way down the mountain – the castle on the summit was still in sight – then took a turn, leading them on a torch-lit terrace ring that took them in a clockwise loop to the western face of the mountain. There they saw flat stretch of ground with a half-built semi-spherical structure about forty feet across taking up about half of the available space. The students from Great Horned Serpent were already present, telescopes set up on tripods at various points. Isla, the girl Ant had met in the courtyard before the Sorting, waved over at the Wampus group, and gestured for them to come over.

Ant had had the impression that she was waving at him to come over to her, so he started toward her. He hadn't taken a full step after changing direction when a leg appeared in front of his own and he tripped over it, falling to the ground on top of his telescope. He knew before looking up that it had been Adrienne that tripped him, and he knew before inspecting his telescope that it was broken.

Felicity rushed over to help him, but Ant quickly stood on his own and drew his wand. Felicity instantly stepped back, not sure if she should intervene. Adrienne, meanwhile, tossed her telescope aside to draw her wand.

"You tripped me on purpose," Ant growled at her.

"It's not my fault you're so clumsy you can't take two steps without falling on your scrawny ass," Adrienne replied coolly.

Ant narrowed his eyes, then aimed his wand. Adrienne jumped away, howling; she didn't know any magic that could help her defend herself, or else had forgotten under pressure. Everyone around them but Felicity laughed, because Ant hadn't pointed his wand at her but at his telescope. He remembered something Professor Hegel had said in Magical Theory that morning and one of the spells he had drawn a diagram for from _Chadwick's Charms_ before switching to the history text, waved his wand precisely, and said clearly, " _Reparo_." As he waved the wand, the broken parts of the telescope flew back into place and the cracked lens mended itself with a flash of reflected light.

Felicity looked like she wasn't sure whether to smile or scowl. "You're not supposed to use magic in the school except in class, Ant. I'm going to have to report this to Professor Spaulding."

"Aw, but, Felicity," Lunetta pleaded, "Ant didn't do anything wrong, he didn't even use magic inside the school! We're outside!"

Ant smiled at Lunetta for defending him; Adrienne scowled again. She picked up her telescope, finding that it had been dented when she tossed it aside. Ant didn't offer to fix it for her. Felicity thought for a moment, then said, "It's the spirit of the rule that counts. I'll have to let her know." Adrienne smiled until Felicity rounded on her, looking less like a mother duck and more like a mother bear. "I _did_ see you trip him, though. Violence against another student is a far more serious infraction, Adrienne. I'll be reporting that too. Ant will likely get a warning and points _for_ Wampus for performing the Repairing Charm so well. You're likely to get detention, so don't gloat. And behave. Professor Cosmont will be out in a moment." Felicity looked toward the dome structure, then walked back toward the path up to the castle.

Ant heard Adrienne mutter something as he continued over to Isla. He thought he knew what she had said but ignored it. Lunetta, however, spluttered with outrage. "Apologize for that right now!" Adrienne turned to look at her, sneering, and only scoffed and shook her head before moving to the other end of the field to set up her tripod. Ant set up his telescope on Isla's right, and Lunetta set up on her left. Donhold moved to set his up on Ant's right. Within moments, the first-years from Thunderbird and Pukwudgie arrived. Shaun came by and greeted Ant warmly, then moved to set up his telescope a few feet in front of Ant. Ant saw Adrienne inspecting her telescope, then attempting to use _Reparo_ as he had done. Apparently, you couldn't just wave your wand and say the incantation, because with a bang, a leg fell off her tripod, tipping her telescope onto the ground once again.

By the time Professor Cosmont emerged from the dome structure, followed by a seventh-year girl from Great Horned Serpent and two sixth-years, a boy and girl from Pukwudgie, the first-years had set up their telescopes in a five-by-six grid facing away from the castle. Professor Cosmont was middle-aged but had a youthful smile, greying black hair, and a bounce in his step. The professor introduced himself, then asked the class: "Can anyone name the structure we're building here?" There was a moment of silence, then Ant raised his hand. "Your name, son?"

"Anthony Acklin, Professor. Is it a planetarium?"

"It is, Mister Acklin. Five points to Wampus. My Advanced Course students and I are building it to allow us to stargaze even on those nights that are cloudy, and to look at the night sky on nights other than the current one."

Professor Cosmont used this as a launch point for his lecture, which was all about recognizing constellations and being able to find them in the night sky. He directed them to point their telescopes at specific constellations in turn and to mark them down on star charts he handed out. Adrienne had to ask for help; her tripod was broken, and she couldn't see out of her telescope. The professor took one look at it and said, "Well, you didn't honestly expect to be able to see out of a broken telescope, did you?" He waved his wand and there was a small, bell-like chime as the metal casing of the telescope undented itself and whatever was broken inside was repaired.

Professor Cosmont called time about twenty minutes later and asked the students to hand their charts in. He looked at each of them in turn before stowing them in his shoulder bag. Occasionally he commented on a chart before stowing it, small pieces of praise such as "nicely done", "good work", or in Adrienne's case, "Not quite done? Don't worry, you'll be bale to finish it next week." Ant didn't feel especially pleased that Adrienne hadn't finished, because even if she hated him, he wanted Wampus to do well in the House championship.

Professor Cosmont walked the students back to the entrance hall, his Advance Course students accompanying them as well. The seventh-year girl was chatting animatedly with Isla. Ant noticed how similar the two girls looked and realized they might be sisters. In the entrance hall, when Donhold started up the stairs, Ant hung back and inspected the painting Felicity had come through earlier. Donhold turned when he realized Ant wasn't next to him and asked, "You coming?"

"In a sec," Ant replied. "I wanna get a closer look at this thing."

He inspected the painting. It featured an old man in a powdered wig with an arrow sticking through his head. He appeared to be sleeping. Ant looked around the edges of the massive frame – about seven feet high in all – and didn't see any hinges. When he realized the entrance hall had gone silent, he looked around. He wasn't alone. Lunetta was inspecting the portrait too, but from a few feet back.

"I saw Felicity use the passage behind this to get down here from the Wampus Lounge earlier," Ant explained. "I was wondering how to get in."

Ant heard a loud _harrumph_ and jumped a bit. The man in the portrait, not asleep at all, was looking down at him. "All you had to do was ask, didn't you?" the man asked him. His voice had an accent Ant had only heard in old-timey radio shows. Ant was taken aback. He had read about portraits that seemed to be alive in the Harry Potter books, but he was still shocked to meet one for himself.

"Yes, sir," he told the portrait. "Sorry for waking you up."

"Not to worry, dear boy, next time just use the password and I'll open up without you needing to spend so long staring at me like you meant to try to remove my arrow." He waggled his eyebrows and lifted his wig. The arrow wasn't running through his head but was instead part of the wig. Ant laughed, which the man seemed to enjoy. "The password, incidentally, is 'Theodard.'"

"It was nice to meet you, sir. I have to get up to the Wampus lounge now."

"Good night, then! Off you go," he said, swinging forward on his hinges to allow Ant and Lunetta to pass.

"Are you sure this leads to the third floor?" she asked as the portrait closed behind them. "We don't want to get lost."

"Either it leads to the third floor, or Felicity was somewhere she shouldn't have been before leading us outside," Ant pointed out.

The staircase was narrow and wound its way upward in tight spirals. It was dark, but Ant drew his wand again, flourishing it and muttering, " _Lumos_." Nothing happened.

"Well," Lunetta giggled, "I guess we can't expect you to be _too_ far ahead of the rest of us. _Lumos_ ," she said, and her wand tip lit and illuminated the stairs. They began climbing, with Lunetta taking the lead.

"Thanks," Ant muttered. "Guess I need more practice."

"Well, you know, on the way up the mountain, I made friends with Isla Santiago and she suggested making a group to study and practice together. Maybe you could join?"

Ant smiled, then realized that she wasn't looking at him, so he added, "Yeah, that sounds cool."

"Don't let what Adrienne called you bother you. Most people don't think that way." She looked over her shoulder at him as she said this.

"Thanks. I'll try not to." Ant sighed. "I guess I should have expected it."

"You shouldn't have to expect people to use disgusting slurs to describe you," Lunetta said with cold fury in her voice. Ant instantly realized that being called a Mudblood was probably nothing compared to the things Lunetta might have heard growing up. His family had their prejudices, and although Ant had decided when he was very young to be as different from his family as he could, that didn't protect him from the knowledge of the kinds of hatred his ancestors had been capable of without magic. His heart sank as he wondered whether, somewhere in the distant past, his family had something more embarrassing than racists on it.

"Thanks, Lunetta. Seriously. For the light, the advice, defending me… and mostly for being a friend."

She smiled and said, "No problem, Ant," as she pushed open the portrait at the top of the stairs.

It was no more than ten minutes since they had split off from the rest of the group, and they closed this portrait, which featured a sleeping young man in what looked like it must be the original Ilvermorny school uniform. They had exited right next to the archway that led into the Wampus lounge. A voice behind them rang out as they passed under the arch. Donhold, pink and with a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, was rushing to catch up with them, followed at a more languid pace by Vicente and the other girls.

"How did you get up here before us?" he called out. The young man in the portrait twitched.

"That portrait didn't make us cross the length of the castle twice to get to the third floor," Lunetta informed him.

"That sounds nice," Donhold said hopefully.

"I'll tell you the password for it later," Ant said as Adrienne came within earshot. "Don't want to share it with the wrong people."

Ant climbed into his bed some twenty minutes later, ready for his first weekend at Ilvermorny. Like the bed he had slept in at the hotel, this one was as hard as a slab of stone when he climbed onto it, but as he shuffled to make himself comfortable, the bed softened and contoured to his body. Each night here had been, he thought, the most comfortable he remembered being. He never woke up sore or still tired, and always seemed to wake exactly when he wanted to.

This night was different. Ant woke up in the dark, not knowing why he had woken until he tried to check his watch to see what time it was. His arm wouldn't move. It was stuck by his side. His legs wouldn't move either. Was he under the effect of a Full Body Bind Curse? But no, he could move his head. He lifted it, poking his chest with his chin and looking down his nose to see what was holding him down. He was wrapped tightly to his bed with what appeared to be particularly thick paper. He struggled, but the paper wouldn't break. Ant thought he could see words on the paper as he shimmied around. Ant could see slightly more clearly; he supposed his eyes were adjusting to the darkness.

"Donhold," Ant whispered, turning his head to the left, where Donhold's bed was. "Help me, someone played a prank on me." There was no response. Ant suddenly realized he couldn't hear Donhold's snoring, or Vicente's soft breathing. He peered around into the darkness, then realized – he couldn't hear them because he wasn't in his dorm. If he was, there'd be a window between his bed and Donhold's, and he'd be able to see stars through it.

Realizing that the prank was more thorough than he'd originally anticipated, Ant decided it was time to call for help again. This time, he shouted instead of whispering. "IS ANYONE THERE? I NEED HELP!"

From somewhere in the direction of the foot of his bed, Ant heard a distant thud and rustling, then the slapping of multiple pairs of feet on a stone floor. Then he heard a voice say, " _Lumos_ ," and realized where he was. He was in the middle of the Wampus lounge, in the empty floor space where the second-year girl had been building her book house.

The student who had ignited his wand stood a few feet from Ant's bed. He held his wand over his head. He had dark, curly hair, piercing green-blue eyes, and olive skin. His face was shadowed by what Ant quickly realized was stubble. He was shirtless, muscled, and hairier than Ant's dad. Ant guessed he must be a seventh-year, because there was no way he was still a minor. Shortly behind him was a seventh-year girl wearing what could charitably be called a nightgown. Ant supposed he must have interrupted something, and his face went very red. The man's eyes looked distant as he read whatever was written on the thick paper binding Ant.

"Go get dressed," the young man said softly, and Ant saw the girl leave the circle of dim light, feet slapping the pavement lightly as she went back to wherever they had been before Ant called for help. Then he walked over to the side of Ant's bed. He was so close, Ant could smell his deodorant. Then he knelt down and carefully waved his wand the length of the paper, slicing it with a spell Ant guessed was the Severing Charm he'd read about. "Careful not to rip it as you get out of bed," he said to Ant. "Who hates you this much?"

Ant slid out of the bed, then turned back to read the words written there. In the wandlight, he could see that they had been written in something red, something that had dripped as the culprit wrote, making it look like the message had been written in blood.

GO HOME SCOURSPAWN


	2. The Ilvermorny Conspiracy Chapters 8-10

Chapter Eight

Write and Flight

The morning after, the stubble-faced seventh-year, whose name was Jacob Campbell, took Ant to Professor Spaulding's office on the opposite end of the third floor. Along the way, he told Ant, "I'll get in trouble if we tell the full truth about last night, so _please_ follow my lead."

Jacob rapped sharply on an oak door with intricate carvings of vines on it. The door opened on its own, and Ant stepped into the office. It was comfortably lit, with dark paneling and pale blue wallpaper. The Charms professor sat at the desk, which bore a nameplate reading _Professor Annalise Spaulding, Head of Wampus House_. She had reddish-gold hair and a slim face. Ant guessed she was about his father's she saw Jacob escorting Ant, she tutted at Ant. "Are you in trouble _again_?"

Jacob looked confused. "No ma'am, this is something different." He explained that he and another prefect had been patrolling the Wampus lounge shortly before dawn when they heard Ant calling for help. They entered the lounge to find him bound to his bed by a length of enchanted paper. Jacob told her about the message on the banner. A look of horror passed over the professor's face when she heard the message. Ant squirmed uncomfortably. When Jacob explained that the other prefect, Rebekah Braun, had taken the banner for safekeeping while Jacob returned Ant's bed to the dorm, Professor Spaulding turned to Ant.

"You slept through the whole thing? You don't know who did it?"

Any squirmed again. "Well, I had an idea, but I'm not sure." Professor Spaulding made a gesture that clearly meant, _go on_. "I thought it might be Adrienne Markson."

"What makes you think so?" Spaulding asked. "Give me something I can verify."

"Well, Adrienne has a problem with me. Because of my parents." Spaulding nodded; she knew he was Nomaj-born. "She hasn't said anything in front of a prefect, but last night she tripped me in front of Felicity and broke my telescope. That's why I used magic outside of class," he added in his defense.

"Yes, Felicity told me about that. She said it was quite an effective Repairing Charm." Professor Spaulding gave Ant a small smile.

"Well, after Felicity left, Adrienne called me a…" Ant trailed off, but then decided repeating the word to tell a teacher what she had said was okay. "A Mudblood."

Professor Spaulding gasped. "Did anyone else hear this? Can they corroborate your story?"

"Yes, ma'am, Lunetta Frank did. She told Adrienne to apologize. But she just sneered at her and walked away."

"So, you think Adrienne was responsible?" Jacob asked.

"Well, something's bothering me about that," Ant said. "You said the banner was enchanted so I couldn't break out of it. That's why you had to use a Severing Charm." Jacob nodded. "But Adrienne couldn't even fix her own telescope. When I drew my wand to fix my telescope last night, she thought I was attacking her and tossed her telescope on the ground, so she could grab her own wand. But she broke it. Then when she tried to repair it, she only broke it worse." Ant turned back to Professor Spaulding. "Whoever did this was good enough to get my bed out of the dorm without waking up me, Donhold, or Vicente. Then they charmed the paper without waking me up too. Adrienne couldn't have done that."

Professor Spaulding nodded. "So, we're likely looking for an older student who Adrienne might have confided her frustrations in." To Jacob, she added, "Gather the Wampus prefects and bring them to me. Whoever did this is in Wampus, and I want to be sure it wasn't a prefect before we get them to start investigating the other students. Have Rebekah bring the banner, too." She turned back to Ant. "I'm sorry your first week here hasn't been so great. Head back to the lounge, or down to breakfast. Just enjoy your weekend. I'll handle Adrienne Markson."

As Ant turned to exit, she called after him, "And don't use any more magic outside of class, Anthony. You get one warning."

Ant returned to his dorm, where he found his History of Magic textbook, the notebook he'd been outlining it in, and a pen. Then he headed down to the Dining Hall, where he found a seat next to Donhold at one of the many small tables.

"Up early?" Donhold asked. "You weren't in bed when Vicente and me got up."

"Yeah," Ant said. "Someone pulled a crappy prank on me last night. Would've gotten humiliated if I hadn't woke up and if one of the seventh-year guys hadn't helped me out."

Donhold went pale. "That's crazy! I didn't hear anything!"

"Me neither," Vicente said, laying a fried egg carefully over his hash browns, then tearing it apart with his fork.

Ant turned to his book. He was a couple chapters from the end, thankfully. He spent the next half-hour eating with his right hand (carefully, since he didn't want to drip syrup from his French toast on his uniform or notebook) while taking notes with his main hand. He had only a few pages left when he realized Donhold and Vicente were getting up from the table.

"What do we do here on weekends?" He asked Donhold.

"Well, there's Quidditch tryouts for Wampus today. Vicente and I were talking about going down to the field if you wanna come."

Ant was conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted to finish this as soon as possible. On the other, he was really excited to see Quidditch. On the third, freakish, mutant hand, he was terrified that he'd be expected to try out and make a fool of himself. With some cajoling, Vicente and Donhold convinced him to take his nose out of the book and enjoy himself.

The Quidditch field looked very much like how the Hogwarts one was described: it was a great oval surrounded by high-altitude stands, with three tall hoops at either end. The middle hoop was the tallest in each. There were students flying already. Excited to see it from closer up, the boys broke into a run, Donhold puffing loudly at the back. By the time they reached the field, the students on the brooms had landed.

They were grouped around Peter, who was wearing padded Quidditch equipment and talking seriously with Jacob Campbell. Peter waved when he saw the boys come; Jacob turned and looked, nodding at Ant. Peter then said something that caused the other fliers to groan loudly, then started walking toward the exit by which Ant, Vicente, and Donhold still stood. Jacob followed him.

Peter grinned at Ant. "Causing more trouble already, huh?"

Ant shrugged. "As far as I know, I've only _gained_ Wampus points since you talked to me last." Peter laughed at this.

"Well, stay down here. Tryouts are gonna be rescheduled, but you should at least fly a bit… with some supervision." Peter made his way back to the castle with Jacob, and the other students who had been flying approached the newcomers. Among them were Lunetta and Elen, although Ant didn't recognize the older students.

A boy of about fifteen shook each of the boys' hands. He had blond hair, very tan skin, and the whitest teeth Ant had ever seen. "Casey Jupiter," he said. Ant, Donhold, and Vicente introduced themselves. "Ever flown before?" he asked them. Donhold and Vicente nodded, but Ant shook his head. The most he had done was polish and trim a broom in Flying class.

Within seconds, Ant found a broom being thrust into his hands, a helmet strapped onto him ("Just in case," said the older girl who did the buckle), and himself surrounded by others on brooms. "Mount it – that's right, leg over, don't just stick the broom between your legs," Casey said. "Bend the knees, just like that, and kick off, it's just like jumping. We'll be right behind you."

Ant gulped. He hoped flying was as easy as the Harry Potter books made it seem. He kicked off as Casey described, and found himself speeding skyward at an alarming angle. "Lean forward," the helmet girl called to him as she also rose, ten feet below him. Ant tried; his angle began to level out, but slowly. He was still much higher than he had meant to get – he guessed he was about thirty feet off the ground, and he suddenly wondered whether a fall from this height could kill him. After a few moments, Ant realized he had levelled out completely, and sat a little straighter on his broom. It remained parallel to the ground. The broom moved slowly forward.

"Okay," he called out, "now what?"

Casey, the helmet girl, Lunetta, and the other flier, a boy Ant didn't know, flew in a V formation, falling into place with Casey at the head and Lunetta and Ant as the wingtips slightly behind and outboard of the two whose names Ant didn't know. They kept Ant's speed to start with.

"All right, hold tight onto your broom handle, then lean forward and squeeze," Casey instructed. "You'll speed up. The formation is going to turn left. Since you're on the outer edge, you need to speed up to stay in the formation. Then when we complete the turn, you'll straighten back up to slow down. Then we'll dive, just lean forward but keep your arms straight and you'll head back toward the ground slowly. Got it?"

"Sure," Ant called back. He wasn't sure.

The formation slowly picked up speed and began to angle away from Ant. He leaned forward, squeezing his broom handle tight. At first, his broom dipped below the level of the others as well as speeding up, but Ant pulled up. He overcorrected and went too high, then descended more gently. He was further behind Helmet Girl than he should be, so he squeezed tighter and hugged his broom more closely. He caught up with her, then slowed down slightly by pulling his body away from the broom, and she began inching ahead of him. Ant breathed heavily; as long as he watched her long brown braid blowing behind her, he wasn't looking down or worried about how high up he was. When they completed the turn, he sat up, slowing down considerably, and leaned forward while keeping his arms locked.

The broom descended slowly, as Casey had said it would, but Ant was shaking from adrenaline as he approached the ground and crumpled into a heap as soon as the broom was no longer supporting his weight. He straightened out, enjoying the cool grass of the field and the solid earth beneath it, and he stayed there until Donhold and Vicente rolled up face up, worried. When Ant saw their faces, he began laughing. The other fliers touched down beside them – Lunetta in particular stepped off her broom so lightly, Ant was sure she'd practiced a walking dismount hundreds of times.

"That was _terrifying_ ," Ant said, sitting up. "I love it. Like riding a roller coaster."

Donhold looked confused. Ant looked around and realized most of them seemed to have no idea what a roller coaster was, although Casey was nodding his head as if he thought it a good comparison.

"I doubt you'll make the team if you try out this year," Casey told Ant, "but you could be really good with some practice."

Ant sat in the stands with Vicente while Donhold flew. Donhold was a bit clumsy and awkward on the ground, but he flew like a bird of prey. Ant wouldn't have believed the kid who ran like his shoes were tied together could fly so well if he hadn't seen it for himself. After Donhold performed the same formation flight as Ant had, Lunetta switched places with Vicente so he could fly as well. Vicente was also a markedly better flier than Ant, but he wasn't quite as confident on the broom as Donhold was. Lunetta came to sit with Ant, and she described the different moves the fliers were practicing, as well as which positions were open on the team.

"Peter's Captain, and he's a Beater, so that's taken. Casey was the other Beater last year, so he'll probably make it again. Cornelia," she pointed at Helmet Girl, "was Seeker last year, she'll be hard to beat if a newcomer wants to claim that spot. Then there's two Chaser spots open, because they graduated last year. Norrin is the Keeper. Then the last Chaser is one of the seventh-year prefects, but she didn't show up for some reason."

"She had to go see Professor Spaulding," Ant said, then explained the events of the previous night – the version Jacob had told him to go along with, at least. Ant didn't want a seventh-year's wrath coming down on him.

When he realized it was nearly noon, Ant told Lunetta he was going back up to the castle. "I've been outlining _Western Wizardry_ ," he said. "I don't want Lowell catching me off-guard with another question."

Lunetta scowled at the mention of the History of Magic professor's name. "That's a good idea, but I don't think it'll stop him from picking on you if he wants to."

Ant had a sudden thought. "I think I'll tell Professor Spaulding if he does. I doubt anyone would have pulled that prank last night if he hadn't told the class my ancestors were Scourers."

"That's a good idea. She's a Head of House, so if she finds out he's been saying things that make students targets, she'll probably go to Professor Hicks to make him stop."

Ant went back up to eat lunch, then got his bag from his dormitory and decided to find his way to the library. He hadn't seen it on the second floor, where most of his classes were held, so he decided to start on the third floor and continue up. While wandering the fifth floor, Ant tried a door and found it locked, but continued along, reasoning that the library wouldn't be closed on a Saturday. Two doors farther down, he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

"What," it asked menacingly, "are you doing inside on a beautiful day such as this?"

Ant jumped, then turned around and started stammering about finding the library. The wizard in front of him scowled sternly for a moment, then busted out laughing. Ant stopped, confused. There was something about him that was slightly familiar. It took him a moment before he recognized the wizard's red-gold hair and blue eyes.

When the wizard stopped laughing, Ant asked him, "Are you related to Professor Spaulding?"

The man's blue eyes twinkled as he smiled. "Yeah, she's my big sister. Andy Spaulding," he said, reaching out a hand to shake Ant's. "Caretaker of Ilvermorny School."

Mr. Spaulding led Ant further down the hall, where a narrow flight of stairs ascended to the next floor. "Library's up on the sixth floor, turn left and it's three doors down on your right. Careful not to go in the wrong door, or you'll find yourself in Professor Lowell's office."

"Thank you, sir," Ant said, but Mr. Spaulding was already going back to his office. As he entered it, Ant heard him talking to someone.

Ant shrugged to himself and went up the stairs. He turned left, then counted the doors on his right as he walked. The third door was huge and made of brightly-polished wood. The fourth door, he noticed, was a very dark wood that didn't seem to reflect the natural skylights at all.

Ant pushed the large door open and found himself in the school's library. He wandered among the shelves for a while, admiring the books and enjoying the silence. He thought he could hear his heartbeat. Eventually he sat at a table and finished outlining the history textbook. The last chapter mentioned the UK's Second Wizarding War in passing, he noted with a thrill of excitement, but the section of the book treated it as little more than an economic concern to the MACUSA. Ant wondered why it hadn't gone into more detail, then another thought occurred to him.

He had read (and taken extensive notes on) chapters that focused primarily on the International Statute of Secrecy and various American laws that had sprung up in the interest of holding to the ISS, including Rappaport's Law. Why, then, had the Wizarding World at large allowed itself to be so thoroughly and accurately exposed in the Harry Potter books?

He knew he couldn't ask Lowell – even though, he supposed, it _was_ a history question. He resolved instead to ask Professor Boot in Defense Against the Dark Arts on Tuesday, then finished outlining _A History of Western Wizardry_. When he finished, it occurred to him that his parents would be waiting to hear from him, so he wrote them a letter.

Dear Mom and Dad,

The first week has been really great so far. I've made a bunch of friends and joined a study group with some really serious students. The classes aren't too hard yet, but I bet they'll get harder as time goes on. I think I can handle it though.

How's Marie doing? Has Frances started school in Florida yet? Hope everything's going okay while I'm gone.

Love and miss you all,

Ant

He looked over the letter a couple times, then folded it up. He had a bunch of envelopes and stamps – his parents had bought them before term and made sure he packed them – so he folded the letter and placed it in his bag to send out when he could. Then it occurred to him that he wasn't sure how to get a letter to his Nomaj-parents.

There were a few other students in the library, mostly older students who looked like they wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted at their work. Ant did see the librarian sorting books with lazy flicks of his wand, so he went to ask him. "Excuse me, sir," he whispered, "I'm not really sure, could you tell me how to send a letter to Nomajes?"

The librarian nodded, whispering back, "Just put a stamp on the envelope and take it to the Owlery. An owl will take it to the post office, where they'll send it out the Nomaj way."

"Thank you," Ant whispered, and he left the library, wishing he had asked where the Owlery was. He left a little too self-conscious to go back and ask now.

As it turned out, Vicente offered to let him use his own owl when Ant asked if he knew where the Owlery was during dinner. When they returned to the dormitory afterwards, Vicente opened the window, put two fingers in his mouth, and let out a whistle that sounded like the cry of a shrieking bird. Within a few moments, a brown owl landed on the windowsill. Ant passed the stamped, addressed envelope to Vicente, who gave it to the owl, stroking its head.

"Take that to the post office," he said, "not the destination. Then you're free to hunt all night." The owl gave him a long look, then turned about and hopped off the ledge, spreading its wings to catch the air.

Ant's second week at Ilvermorny was much like the first, if not better. He enjoyed Magical Theory with Professor Hegel and how it built the foundation for the lessons he'd be learning in Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration throughout the week. He enjoyed the challenge of Potions, the intricate recipes whose every instruction was precise and must be followed without fail. He didn't think he had much instinct for Potions, but he could follow instructions well enough that Professor Fontaine never had much in the way of criticism for him. He excelled in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, often earning House points for Wampus by either answering a question correctly or demonstrating a charm or counterjinx properly.

Transfiguration, though, was where Ant really felt he shined. Professor Camejo caught sight of his outline of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ on Monday and gave him twenty points for it. "I do wish you had chosen my House, Mister Acklin," she said with a sigh. The Great Horned Serpent students all clamored over to see his notebook at the end of class, hoping to emulate whatever he had done that had earned him twenty points.

Even History of Magic wasn't quite as bad, because after Ant gave satisfactory answers in Monday's class, Professor Lowell didn't seem to want to even look at him, much less call on him. Ant, for his part, had stood when called on in the class so everybody could see nobody was passing him notes with answers when he was asked a question. Donhold looked furious at the end of that class.

"What's wrong?" Ant asked as they stowed their notes in their bags.

Donhold seemed to shake himself out of a reverie as they walked to the door. "It's just, if any other teacher had asked you that many questions, Wampus would be another twenty points up. But since it's Lowell, you didn't get any points and we're actually down because he took ten points from Lunetta because she was talking to Adrienne."

Lunetta, who fell in step beside Ant, heard this last part and bristled. "Only because that idiot kept kicking me under the desk. I swear, she was trying to cost Wampus points on purpose."

"Sit with us next time," Ant said. "I doubt Adrienne will want to sit next to you if I'm on your other side." Lunetta smiled and agreed that it was a great idea.

On Tuesday, Ant hung back in Defense Against the Dark Arts to talk to Professor Boot. He told the others he'd see them at lunch, and not to wait for him. When it was just himself and Professor Boot, he cleared his throat. Professor Boot turned from the blackboard he was cleaning with his wand.

"Oh, hello there, Mister Acklin," Professor Boot said. "Come to learn that spell I offered to teach you?"

Ant suddenly remembered that Professor Boot had offered to teach him how to make sure he never ran out of space in his journal, which was rather close to full after he had outlined _The Dark Forces_ in it. "Yes, sir. But I also had an unrelated question."

"Ask away, then we'll get started."

"I was wondering why J. K. Rowling was allowed to publish the Harry Potter books, since they're kind of obvious violations of the International Statute of Secrecy."

Professor Boot smiled. "Brilliant woman, Miss Rowling. A brilliant witch." He came around his desk and sat on it, something he did often in class at the beginning of a lecture. "She worked in the Department of Magical Law enforcement during the Second Wizarding War. Had to go into hiding because she kept trying to expose Death Eaters at the Ministry, and accidentally discovered that Pius Thicknesse had been put under the Imperius Curse. She ended up publishing an account of her experiences, then decided to write a more ambitious account of the war. She interviewed so many survivors about Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts that she decided to publish it as a seven-part biography instead. The new Minister for Magic actually helped her argue that the books should be published by Muggles as well, in front of the International Confederation of Wizards. They ended up allowing it, in part because Harry saved the world from the threat Voldemort posed, and on the condition that it be marketed as children's fiction, so nobody'd believe it was real. The first book was released to the Muggles in under two months after the war ended."

"Wow," Ant said, processing the information.

"Yeah, best thing about it, though, is that she basically destroyed Rita Skeeter's career as a biographer. When Rowling found out that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus, Skeeter ended up spending a few months in Azkaban and was forced to register. Now she's back to journalism, but old Rita can't get the scoop like she used to; now people joke about squashing beetles before having important conversations.

"Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "Let's see if you can master these two spells before the end of lunch."

He wrote out extensive diagrams and had Ant practice the incantations for the two spells. They were quite advanced. "But I expect you'll be able to do it," Professor Boot said, "or at the very least, I want to see how far you'll get."

After about twenty minutes, Ant succeeded in pulling off the first spell: after some practice (and Professor Boot advising him to minimize his wand movements), Ant said, " _Geminio_ ," made a sharp but understated movement with his wand, and the chalk duster he was pointing at split into two with a dusty _pop_.

Professor Boot congratulated him and wrote out a quick note. With a wave of his wand, the note folded itself into a crane and flew out the open door. Ant resumed practicing the second spell, the Ink Displacement charm. Ant had more ease with this, which was probably why Professor Boot went for the harder spell first. By the time Ant had succeeded in lifting the ink words "Professor Boot Rules" from one sheet of paper to another – without even distorting the professor's handwriting – there was a knock at the open door, and Ant turned to see a Pukwudgie entering, a tray of sandwiches and a jug of some juice Ant didn't recognize floating behind him.

"Thought you might be hungry after that," Professor Boot said. Ant thanked him, and the Pukwudgie, and grabbed a sandwich. He was starving after learning those two spells. The Pukwudgie left after the tray set itself down gently on the table. Professor Boot poured two glasses of the juice, which he explained was a Hogwarts staple that didn't get served often at Ilvermorny: pumpkin juice. Ant enjoyed it, but thought it was a bit weird. After eating, Professor Boot told him to bring out his journal.

Ant placed the journal on the desk, and said, " _Geminio_." With a pop, a second journal burst onto the desk out of the first. Ant cleared his mind of the excitement that followed his success, then focused on his outline of _The Dark Forces_. He enunciated " _Translatio Atramento_ ," and watched as the first journal's pages flew open, shadows pouring out of them as they went. The shadows seemed to crawl across the desktop to the second journal, flipping through the book as they bound themselves to the pages there. When at last both journals slammed shut, Ant picked up the first. His record of his experiences in the wizarding world were still there, but his outline was gone. In the second journal, the outline was present without the journal entries.

"Worked like a charm," he said to Professor Boot, who laughed.

"Excellent indeed, Mister Acklin. Take twenty points for Wampus and know that I'll be informing Professor Spaulding of the progress you made today."

September deepened into October as the weeks went on. It wasn't long before Ant had achieved a bit of a reputation amongst the teachers. He had finished outlining his textbooks for the year, and had finished _Chadwick's Charms, Volume Two_ before he was pushed toward other books by Professors Spaulding and Boot.

Apparently, there had been many conversations between the staff about Ant's ability, for it was during Transfiguration a week later that Professor Camejo asked Ant to demonstrate the Doubling Charm for the class. Unlike before, however, she had asked him to use it on a living creature: the slug Ant was supposed to be turning into a snail for today's assignment. According to what Ant had ready in _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ , it was much harder to do these kinds of Transfigurations on living creatures, but he came to the front of the class and mentally prepared himself. The nerves had him sweating, but one look at Adrienne, who he could tell was hoping for him to fail, and Ant knew he would succeed.

One careful wand movement, one deliberate incantation, and suddenly before Ant were two slugs. Professor Camejo thanked him and gave Wampus ten points. Adrienne looked furious.

As the professors – excepting Professor Lowell, who alternated between needling Ant with difficult questions about house elf servitude laws in Central America and ignoring him entirely – began heaping higher praise and harder work on Ant, most of the other first-year students seemed to resent him. He joined Lunetta's study group, but the other students all ignored him, except for Lunetta herself and Shaun Brandt of Pukwudgie. Donhold stuck by him, but Vicente seemed to get up and find a new seat whenever Ant sat within arm's reach of him. Ant protested this to Donhold.

"The teachers are giving us _all_ harder work, pushing us to keep up with you," Donhold said. "Vicente and the others are just worried about their grades."

Ant wasn't sure if that was true, but he went to talk to Peter about it just in case.

"The learning curve in first year is pretty steep," Peter said. "I doubt the teachers would do anything to make it harder for the other students than it naturally is. I can talk to Professor Spaulding for you."

"Oh, has there been any news about…?" Ant trailed off, nodding discreetly towards Adrienne, sitting on a table nearby with a stack of books around her.

Peter's eyes flicked toward her and back to Ant. "We're not sure. Felicity has been asking around the girls' dorms about her, and the other girls say she's pretty abrasive and… well, almost friendless. There are a couple boys that she seems to have befriended, but Jacob and I have been asking the older boys about any girls they might be involved with – kind of in a friendly way, you know – and none of them seem to be close to her, just kind of casually interested."

"Weird," Ant said. "She had to have been working with someone."

"We'll figure it out, don't worry. Nobody's pulled any pranks on you since then, have they?"

"Nobody's even tried," Ant said with certainty. Professor Boot had told the class about anti-intruder jinxes, and afterwards Ant had started setting a magical perimeter around his bed and belongings at night. If someone had tried to get closer to him, or to cast a spell through the perimeter, it would have woken him and, likely, half the castle.

"Well, I have Charms in a bit," Peter said, "so I'll go talk to Professor Spaulding about the other students' concerns now. Want to join?"

"No," Ant responded, "I've got Potions in a bit and it's the only class I'm not really getting ahead in." Ant was dedicating more and more of his off-time to reading about various common potion ingredients, trying to determine what might help him understand the subject better.

Professor Fontaine was very helpful in this regard. He was always offering the students additional reading materials. When Ant asked him for advice on how to develop his Potions instincts more sharply, though, the professor only shook his head.

"There's no amount of study that'll make this process any faster, Acklin. You learn those instincts through practice, repetition, and trial and error." When Ant continued to ask for _some_ kind of help, Professor Fontaine turned away from him and called on another student.

"Mister Brandt!"

The brown-haired boy looked up from his potion, which seemed to be much farther along in the brewing process than most other students'. "Yes, professor? How can I help?"

"You've shown an exceptional aptitude for potion-making," Professor Fontaine said kindly. "Mister Acklin here would like to learn from your example."

Ant moved his cauldron to sit beside Shaun's, using a Levitation Charm that lifted not only the cauldron, but the fire beneath it as well, to maintain the heat on it. Professor Fontaine leaned in and whispered so that only Ant and Shaun could hear him, "Perhaps while you're learning from Brandt, you can help him raise his Transfiguration grade, Mister Acklin."

Chapter Nine

Intruder Alert

From then on, Ant sat next to Shaun in Potions. They also met regularly in one of the empty second-floor classrooms to alternate between Potions and Transfiguration practice. They stopped attending the ever-colder study group Lunetta had invited them to, but instead built one of their own. Soon, Lunetta, Isla, Donhold, Kevin Kinneman and Basimah Lakhani from Thunderbird, and Minnie Eckhart and Mayumi Choi from Pukwudgie had also joined them.

Each new addition to the group contributed in various ways. Lunetta had a sharp attention to detail and could spot a mistake in a copied diagram or wand movement instantly. Isla had a real gift for preparing things like flash cards for the students to quiz each other. Donhold remembered facts, dates, and numbers like he had a book in front of him, making him invaluable, especially in History of Magic and Transfiguration. Kevin had a way of asking a question that guided the one being asked toward the answer via logical deduction. Basimah seemed to have the star charts memorized, as well as the effects the stars had on spellcasting. Minnie and Mayumi made up catchy mnemonic rhymes together that got stuck in everyone's heads and helped them remember important details. Shaun could look at a plant and tell you what it was, what its magical properties were, what parts of it were used in potions, and where it was most commonly found. Ant felt his own contributions were almost minimal compared to the strengths of these students who were quickly becoming the best friends he had ever had.

As the students from different houses were making their way back to their respective lodgings one Thursday night, Ant confided this to Shaun, who laughed. "You started all of this," Shaun said, smiling. "Just look at that Transfiguration essay Professor Camejo let me re-write after she found out we were studying together. My grade went from a P to an E."

That weekend, the study group went down to the Quidditch field to watch a practice match between Wampus and Great Horned Serpent before the first match of the season, which was to be between Great Horned Serpent and Pukwudgie. Ant, as was usual, had a book with him. This time, however, it was not a textbook, but one pressed upon him by Professor Spaulding after Wednesday's Charms lesson: _Quintessence: A Quest_. The book was exceedingly difficult, even for Ant. In his bag he had a large, heavy dictionary he had checked out from the library, which he only pulled out on occasion, because he would first check the many sticky notes Professor Spaulding had left in the book (she considered writing in a book to be defacing it, and Ant agreed with her). He took notes in yet another journal he had created using the Doubling Spell.

The group had mainly come to cheer on Lunetta, who had made the Wampus team, albeit as a reserve Chaser. During this scrimmage game, however, she was seeing quite a lot of air time. When Lunetta wasn't on the ground, Ant's book was closed, and he was shouting encouragement for her. The match was playful, and pretty even. After a while, though, the Captains called their first-string players onto the field. Lunetta retreated to the ground to pass her broom off to an older girl, then made her way towards the seats her friends had saved in the stands.

Suddenly, the match became serious. Ant spent more of it with his nose in his book, which was very compelling despite its difficulty, but occasionally Shaun would nudge him to get his attention, causing Ant to look up in awe at the speed and ferocity with which the Chasers passed or stole the Quaffle, or the terrifying accuracy with which the Beaters pelted Bludgers at opposing team members. All the while, the teams' Seekers were combing the air above the field for any flash of gold in the late October sunshine. The Keepers flew in unpredictable defensive patterns in front of their goal hoops, ready for the Quaffle to come within their area.

The match lasted three hours in all, during which time Ant was pleased to note he'd made it halfway through his book – he hoped to finish it the next day and return it to Professor Spaulding on Monday before class – and he chatted excitedly about Great Horned Serpent's prospects for the match in two weeks' time. Great Horned Serpent had done well in the scrimmage, but after a few well-placed Bludgers, some inspired formation flying from the Wampus Chasers, and a few tricky dives and corkscrew turns from Cornelia Spungen that left Great Horned Serpent's Seeker disoriented and left her free to catch the Golden Snitch, Wampus had defeated them by nearly two hundred points.

As they headed back up Mount Greylock, Donhold and Shaun, walking on either side of Ant, engaged in a passionate conversation about who would win the match. Shaun liked Pukwudgie's chances, especially after seeing Great Horned Serpent lose so resoundingly to Wampus, but Donhold shook his head. "Don't judge them by how they played against Wampus. The Wampus team could probably wipe the floor with a professional team at this point. Great Horned Serpent didn't expect to win that match."

Their conversation stopped dead in their tracks when they approached the entrance courtyard. Somewhere in the distance, Ant could hear an alarm shrieking. It sounded almost like an air raid alarm he had heard in old World War Two movies. As they entered the castle, the alarm's shrieks were dulled by the walls, but Professor Spaulding was waiting for Ant at the bottom of the stairs.

"Up to the dormitory, immediately," she ordered him sternly. "Turn off that alarm at once. Then come to my office so we can talk."

Realizing that the alarm must be the product of the anti-intruder jinx he had set up, Ant used the shortcut behind the portrait of Theodard Fontaine to get to the Wampus dorms. When Ant opened the door to the dorm he shared with Donhold and Vicente, though, for a moment he was too dumbfounded to even dispel the alarm that blared painfully in his ears.

All three beds were demolished. Their wooden frames lay in splintered pieces, the mattresses and pillows slashed. Ant stepped inside and realized that what he had at first taken to be feathers littering every surface were shreds of paper. His textbooks, his journals, his school notes, all of them had been ripped apart so viciously Ant doubted there'd be more than a single word on any given scrap. Numbly, he walked through the invisible barrier of the anti-intruder jinx, dispelling it instantly. Donhold entered just behind him and said something, but Ant couldn't hear what he'd said; his ears were ringing, not only from the alarm, but also from the swell of emotions inside. Ant wanted to rage, to find who did this and make them pay for it the way Mae had made him pay for every perceived instant of disrespect. Rage didn't seem to want to be felt, however. All Ant could muster was hurt, sadness, and confusion. He couldn't stop the tears rolling down his face. He wasn't sure he wanted to anyways.

Ant left the dorm and the Wampus lounge, making his way to Professor Spaulding's office. When he knocked, the door opened itself. Professor Spaulding sat at her desk, but she wasn't alone in the office. To her left stood Jacob Campbell, the broody seventh-year prefect, and on her right, Professor Eulalie Hicks, Headmistress of Ilvermorny, sat on the corner of the desk. She wore regal-looking purple robes and had her greying hair in thick, but intricate braids that stretched halfway down her back. The individual braids were tied back by a length of purple cloth embroidered with tiny golden stars.

Ant noticed a roll of pale cloth Jacob was holding but couldn't drudge up the slightest bit of curiosity just yet. He waited in silence until somebody spoke to him. It was Professor Hicks who broke the silence.

"Mister Acklin," she said, surveying him with brown eyes so dark they might almost be black, "I would like you to explain to me the events that led to you placing an anti-intruder jinx in your dormitory." She didn't sound angry. She didn't sound like _anything_ , and that was how Ant knew the extent of her disappointment.

He explained dully, but in great detail, the events leading up to Adrienne's minor assault on him before that Astronomy lesson weeks before. He told them how he thought Adrienne had been egged on by Professor Lowell's claim that Nomaj-born children, and Ant specifically, were descended from Scourers who had married Nomajes to escape the fledgling MACUSA. Professor Hicks looked affronted at this.

"You're saying Professor Lowell directly insinuated you had Scourer heritage?" she asked incredulously.

"His exact words were that my Scourer ancestors would be offended I didn't even know Rappaport's Law." Ant responded, looking directly into her eyes.

She remained silent for a long moment, just keeping eye contact. Then she blinked and suppressed a shudder. "I'll have to talk to him. That's not good conduct… and just plain disturbing."

Ant continued, explaining what had happened the night of the prank. When he told Professor Hicks how Jacob and Rebekah came to answer his calls for help, he just didn't mention their state of undress. He remembered reading about Legilimency and thought that if Professor Hicks was a Legilimens, an outright lie might alert her. All the same, he broke eye contact with her when omitting details, looking and gesturing at Jacob instead.

"Then, it was a week or two later that Professor Boot told us about anti-intruder jinxes, and I was still a bit afraid that someone might sneak into my dorm to try something worse than moving my bed around, so I learned how to do the jinx and set it up. I didn't think anyone would try to break in while I was out of the castle," Ant finished. "I'm sorry it became such a problem."

Professor Hicks's gaze continued to pierce Ant, but he thought she looked slightly less severe. The silence carried on until, this time, it was broken by Professor Spaulding.

"What I'm curious about is the culprit's goal here. At first it seemed like it was just to humiliate Mister Acklin, but at this point it seems as if humiliation is only one of their goals. The sheer scale of destruction in the dorm implies they want him to be afraid, or at least demoralized."

Professor Hicks nodded in agreement. "I want to lure this culprit out, Acklin. I will not have these kinds of attacks on Nomaj-born students. And I want your help to do it."

Ant left the office twenty minutes later feeling somewhat better. Officially – and, to be fair, in reality – he was to be punished for his use of magic outside of class. His sentence was detention: three a week for the next month, to be served under the supervision of Mr. Spaulding, the caretaker. Professor Hicks had insisted that drawing out the culprit meant letting them think they had succeeded, at least partially. Ant needed to play the part, having been humiliated and demoralized by the destruction of his belongings, and angry that he had gotten detention for it to boot.

Ant had, at least, gotten permission to attempt to repair all the damage that had been done in his dorm. He was only afraid that the journals and textbooks might be too far gone for repair. He made his way back to the dorm, letting his thoughts dwell on his destroyed notes, ensuring that anyone who looked at him saw a look of glum resignation. When he made it to the dorm, Ant first repaired the beds; legs reconnected with frames and mattresses and pillows were un-slashed, their contents slurped back inside as the wounds closed. He sat on his bed, then, looking at all the shreds of paper that littered the room. He picked up the torn cover of _The Dark Forces_ and cast the repair charm on it. Random shreds of paper flew from around the room, filling the book, but when it stopped, it was just a book cover filled with confetti.

Ant started crying again, hot, heavy tears rolling down his face to splatter on his uniform or mattress. Then he heard a voice at the door: "Hey, Ant?" Ant brushed the tears out of his eyes and turned to look. Shaun Brandt was there, hanging in the doorway, looking very out-of-place in the Wampus quarters.

The sight of him filled Ant with warmth. "How'd you get in here?" he asked, continuing to brush and blink tears away.

"Apparently we're allowed to enter each other's House lounges with permission from a prefect of that House or the Head of House. Jacob let me in." Shaun came over, shutting the door behind him, and sat next to Ant on the bed. _The Dark Forces_ sat between them. He looked inside its cover and saw that the contents were still shredded. "You tried repairing it?" Ant nodded. Shaun continued, "I've heard some spells become a lot stronger if more than one person casts it," Shaun said. "D'you wanna try it together?"

Ant smiled that Shaun was putting so much effort into this. He said, "Sure," but he didn't think it would work. They stood up and waved their wands over the book, saying " _Reparo_ " together. The book squirmed a bit, but nothing happened. Ant sighed heavily, about to thank Shaun but ask if he could be left alone, but Shaun grabbed his hand and said, "I want to try again." Ant shuddered as Shaun held his hand. It was like there was some spark, some added power that the two of them gained from physical connectedness. Ant used his left hand to open the cover of the book, revealing the shredded pile of paper within.

With his wand in his left and, his right hand in Shaun's left, and Shaun's wand in his right, the two boys looked each other in the eyes. Shaun's eyes, Ant noticed, weren't brown, but a dark amber color. He blushed a bit, unsure why he felt so embarrassed to be so close to his friend. The boys waved their wands slowly from above the edges of the covers to the center of the book, reciting the incantation. Ant knew from reading about the theory of the spell that he should be focusing his attention on the book, imagining it whole and new, but he couldn't think about anything other than Shaun's hand in his and the lopsided smile on Shaun's face as they had looked into each other's eyes. As their wand tips met above the center of the book, the shreds and strips of paper began to twist as if a localized tornado had stirred them up. The strips became pages, which spun through the air as they connected to each other like so many puzzles, before settling back into the book, in order, and the book's binding sealed them in place.

Chapter Ten

Memories in the Dark

After Shaun returned to the Pukwudgie dorms, Ant sat on his bed enraptured, and didn't leave until he could reliably control his facial expression. They had managed to repair every destroyed book they could find. He was so pleased that it wasn't until much later in the evening that he realized something was missing – after he had miserably told his friends about the lengthy detentions he'd be attending as a result of his unsanctioned magic disrupting the entire school.

"It's weird," Donhold said when he, Ant, and Lunetta were walking back up from dinner. "They wanted to humiliate you the first time, but then they just settle for wrecking your stuff? Maybe this wasn't all they did."

"Yeah," Ant agreed, nodding, "but maybe they decided the trouble I'd get into for using magic outside of class again would be humiliating enough." As he said this, though, he remembered the roll of cloth Jacob Campbell had been holding when he was given his detentions. Perhaps Jacob had taken it from the dorm after being drawn there by the anti-intruder jinx.

"That's not even _fair_ ," Lunetta grumbled, interrupting Ant's train of thought. "Someone broke into your room once already. You'd be dumb not to even try to stop them from trying again."

Ant nodded at this, too. "Which is why I'm going to find another way to stop them. Anti-intruder jinx was too…" He trailed off, trying to find the best word to describe it. Lunetta and Donhold chimed in.

"Conspicuous?" Lunetta supplied.

"Loud?" suggested Donhold.

"Obnoxious?"

"Unsubtle?"

Ant laughed. "I think unsubtle might be right. Thanks to Professor Spaulding, I think I know how to do it, too." In response to their questioning looks, he opened his bag and pulled out _Quintessence: A Quest_. "Super advanced Charms work. But I need to do more research, so it's Professor Boot I'm off to next."

It was as Ant lied down to bed that he realized he and Shaun hadn't repaired, or even found, his original journal. Ant quickly got up, lighting his wand and double-checking his journals. He had used the Doubling Charm to duplicate the journal three times, and each of the three copies was here: the outlines of _The Dark Forces_ , _A History of Western Wizardry_ , and _Quintessence: A Quest_. The original was nowhere to be seen; it was even with the other notebooks, the spiral-bound ones Ant's parents had bought him for school. Ant wasn't worried anyone would read the contents – the journal was charmed only to open for him, and even if he opened it, it looked blank to others. That bit of spellwork hadn't been duplicated with the journal, so only the original journal had those defenses. Ant decided to inform Professor Spaulding about it after Charms on Monday.

On Monday, Ant returned the advanced Charms book to Professor Spaulding with his sincerest thanks. After the class, during which students practiced casting the Levitation Charm. Since Ant had mastered the spell some time before, he spent most of the class conversing with Professor Spaulding about his opinion of the book. When she ended the conversation to go assist Pavitr Rajput, who had somehow cast the Levitation Charm on his own shoes and was dangling upside down from near the ceiling, Ant stood in front of Lunetta, Basimah, Kevin, Elen Bellows, and Miles Eckhart – Minnie's twin brother, who was in Thunderbird – who used _Wingardium Leviosa_ to throw things at Ant one at a time. Ant, in turn, used the spell to juggle the objects – a mug, a candlestick, Kevin's backpack, a chair, and a bowl of plastic fruit that had gotten fused into a single large lump after a mishap a few weeks before, when a student was trying to make the bowl tap-dance during a lesson.

Professor Spaulding called time a few minutes before the lunch bell rang so the students could clean up the various messes they had made. It didn't take long, and the students sat at their tables for the last minute or so, engaged in idle conversation. Ant noticed that when Pavitr sat down, he seemed to have trouble keeping his feet on the floor; his charm seemed to have left behind some residual effects that even Professor Spaulding hadn't been able to entirely get rid of.

When the bell rang, Ant was the only one who'd remained behind; he had told his friends to go on ahead of him. "Thanks again for the book, Professor," he said as the last of his classmates exited the room. Watching the door to ensure nobody was left in the room, he whispered, "Professor, I just wanted to let you know not all of my journals were shredded. Someone stole one of them. The original." He explained about the enchantments on the journal, and when he finished, Professor Spaulding had a distasteful look on her face.

"Bullying, pranks, and destruction of property are serious enough, but theft alone can be grounds for expulsion. Whoever is behind all of these events, they'll be expelled for sure. Be cautious," she said in an even quieter tone. "They may not be satisfied by your punishment."

Ant got to the dining hall a few minutes later and approached Professor Boot at the staff table before sitting down to eat. Normally, Professor Boot had the singularly terrible luck to be seated next to Professor Lowell, but today Professor Lowell wasn't at lunch, so Ant felt safe enough to hold conversation.

"Hi, Professor," he said brightly, and received a cheery wave in return; Professor Boot had just taken a bite when Ant showed up. "I was wondering if you could recommend another book for me. I just returned Professor Spaulding's copy of _Quintessence_."

Professor Boot chewed and swallowed, then continued to watch Ant shrewdly. " _Quintessence_ : _A Quest_? But that's… that's NEWT standard, that is." He chewed on his tongue for a moment, then patted his pockets. "Got a pen and some – ah, prepared for anything, eh?" Ant was already pulling pen and paper out of his bag. Professor Boot took them and wrote a quick note, folding it before handing it back to Ant. "Take that to the library and give it to Mister Dagworth. He'll get what you're looking for." Ant accepted the note folded and slipped it into his pocket.

"Thanks, Professor," Ant said.

"Don't be too quick to thank me," he interrupted, shaking his head. "I'm going to talk with your other teachers about putting you on some kind of accelerated program. It's going to be bloody hard, but you're making so much more progress than is normal, and I have a feeling you're not even particularly pushing yourself." He jabbed a finger at the note. "That book is full of information that'll prove valuable to you. Study it as hard as you would any other textbook, do your best to master its contents. Because I'm going to test you on it. And I don't just mean a written examination. I'm going to do my best to push you beyond your limits, Ant Acklin."

Ant seemed a little stunned by his forcefulness, so he behaved more seriously and formally in response. "Yes, sir," he answered. "And I'll do my best not to have any."

Ant sat at the table where Shaun, Lunetta, and Donhold were discussing the Levitation Charm. Shaun's face lit up when he saw Ant. Ant, for his part, smiled sheepishly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Ready for the Potions test coming up, Ant?" Shaun asked.

Ant shrugged. "I hope so. We've been doing a lot of potions with the same basic ingredients for so long I'm ready to move forward."

Shaun squeezed Ant's shoulder. "You've got this in the bag," he said. "We'll do Isla's Herbology and Potions flashcards every day until Friday till you get every question right."

Ant smiled and thanked him, then grabbed a grilled chicken breast off one platter and a bun off another and set about making himself a sandwich. After eating it, he chugged a glass of water and told his friends he had to go, because before Transfiguration he wanted –

"To go to the library," they all finished in unison, then burst out laughing.

Ant waved goodbye then rushed up to the sixth floor. He made it to the library with about fifteen minutes left before Transfiguration, and breathlessly asked the young librarian, Simon Dagworth, if he could help him find a book.

Mister Dagworth inspected the note. " _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ , Catullus Spangle. Yeah, gimme a sec." He rummaged around in a pile of books on his desk, eventually handing one to Ant. It was not _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ but appeared to be a book of wizarding fairy tales with a lurid pink cover, titled _Toadstool Tales_. Ant looked bemusedly at it for a moment, before realizing that the librarian was still looking for something. After about another minute, the librarian looked up at him.

"Why you still here? Go shelve that. Restricted Section. Your book will be a couple shelves down." He shooed Ant away. As Ant made his way into, and then through, the Restricted Section, he wondered what was so horrible about _Toadstool Tales_ that it merited shelf space in the Restricted Section. Sure enough, there was an entire shelf dedicated to the book. It was bare and dusty, with a sign saying: " _Toadstool Tales_. Warning: has been confirmed to induce nausea, vomiting, and lasting psychic irritation." Ant dropped the book on the shelf and moved away from it. He was in no mood to weather an illness right now, magical or otherwise.

Two shelves to the right of the lone book of fairy tales was a floor to ceiling bookshelf of darkest ebony. Ant moved closer, looking at the spines of the books for the title, _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ , or the name of its author, Spangle. Many of the books didn't have any identifying marks. Ant considered pulling some of them down and inspecting the cover, or even opening them to find it, but when he realized that the book he was reaching for was bound, not in cloth, but some strange pale leather, he felt entirely too sick to go through them all.

Just as he was about to turn away, he saw a short but thick book with faded gold lettering on its leather spine: _harms fence and terrence_. He pulled the book from shelf and looked at its cover. It was equally faded, but Ant could see "Cat us pang" on the front and knew he had the right book.

He was rushing out of the Restricted Section when he slammed headlong into someone and fell backwards with a heavy thump. Looking up and apologizing profusely, he saw the young, handsome face of Anderson Spaulding. "Sorry, sir. I need to get to class, I think I'm already…"

"Late?" He finished. "Nah, you got a minute. Besides, Professor Camejo will forgive you for showing up after the bell. Especially if you're with me. Walk with me, I'm not as young as you. I can't just sprint around everywhere." He smiled as he said this. Sizing him up, Ant didn't doubt that Mister Spaulding _could_ sprint everywhere if he wanted to. He appeared to be in rather good shape, and despite the truth to the statement that he wasn't as young as Ant, Ant suspected that he was around twenty-five or thirty.

"Is this about my detentions with you, sir?" Ant asked him as they headed out of the library. He caught Mister Dagworth's eye and showed him that he had found the book. Dagworth waved goodbye. Ant had a weird feeling the librarian was bidding the book farewell, not the student holding it.

"It is, actually," said Mister Spaulding, oblivious to the exchange going on between the librarian and book. "Your first one will be tonight, then again on Wednesday, then again on Saturday evening."

Ant was disappointed that he was losing so much time to study the book he was now putting into his bag, but he had already accepted that three nights a week, for the next month, he was the Caretaker's assistant.

"Meet me at my office – the room you attempted to walk into on the fifth floor at the end of your first week here, remember? Tonight at six."

"Anything I should prepare for?"

"Oh yeah. We'll be hunting hidebehinds."

With yet another new topic of research to add to his every-growing list, Ant rushed straight to the library after the end of History of Magic that day. Ant had read about hidebehinds in _A History of Western Wizardry_ , but he hadn't seen anything about how to capture them – just that some illegal beast trader had accidentally created them by cross-breeding a demiguise with a ghoul. He asked for assistance from Mister Dagworth. He didn't even look up from his book, merely pointing in the direction of a section of books Ant saw was labelled "Creatures". He found an area of shelves labelled "Creatures of North America" and began perusing the books. In the end, he picked up three of the books and started reading everything they had on hidebehinds.

He read until his watch beeped, alerting him that it was half past five. He shelved the books where he had found them – no need to take them with him – and headed down to dinner. The Dining Hall was still mostly empty when he arrived, but a few minutes into his meal, Shaun came to his table and sat beside him. "You're down here early," Shaun pointed out.

"First detention tonight," Ant said. "Wish me luck, I'll need it." Ant checked his watch. "I have to meet Mister Spaulding in the Entrance Hall in ten minutes, I better go. See you at Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow."

"Yeah," Shaun said, watching him go. "See ya tomorrow."

Ant found Mister Spaulding already waiting in the Entrance Hall. He was chatting with Professor Fontaine, who was smiling for the first time that Ant had seen. As Ant approached, unnoticed, he heard their whispered conversation.

"They really thought it was a good idea for you to take the boy hunting _hidebehinds_? A single mistake could be lethal."

"Come on, Gil," Spaulding countered, "there's only _one_ hidebehind and it's not like the kid's defenseless. You heard what the Headmistress said when Terry suggested pushing him through an accelerated curriculum. We need to know what he's capable of."

Ant knew he shouldn't be hearing this, and since they hadn't noticed him, he quickly edged backward, retreating around a corner. Professor Fontaine's response faded from hearing as Ant slipped silently out of earshot. "Yes, that he might be either the American Dum…"

Ant waited a few moments, then said loudly enough for the two staff members to hear him, "See you later, I'm off to detention," to nobody in particular. Then he walked into the Entrance Hall and spotted Mister Spaulding and Professor Fontaine looking in his direction. He greeted Professor Fontaine politely but mutedly. He was kind of excited for this, even if the idea of being eaten by a hidebehind might give him nightmares, but he had to remember that this was a punishment and he was meant to play a part to help draw out whoever was trying so hard to humiliate him.

Professor Fontaine left, heading up the stairs to his office on the second floor. Mister Spaulding watched him for a moment, then quietly asked Ant, "So, how much of that did you overhear?"

"I – what?"  
"Extrasensory Charm. I knew you wear there. How much did you hear?"

"Just that someone thought it was a good idea to do this for detention, there's only one hidebehind, and the Headmistress wants to know what I'm capable of," Ant admitted with a sigh. "When I realized you were having a private conversation I tried to sneak out so that I couldn't hear it."

They exited the Entrance Hall and walked through the courtyard. "What research did you do in the Library after I told you about the hidebehind?" Spaulding asked him.

"I was trying to think of ways to stop it from turning invisible, mostly," Ant said. "It's not as much of a threat if people can see it."

Mister Spaulding nodded his agreement. "A good start. How do you spot it when it's invisible, though?"

Ant was ready, since this was something he'd looked into. "They're not perfectly invisible. When they move, they can be spotted as a rippling effect. Also, their shadows are weaker, but still visible. Like if they were wearing the One Ring," he concluded, musing.

"One Ring?" Spaulding asked, looking confused. "Whatever, that's all correct. But with one complication."

"Yeah, it's night," Ant said, scratching his head. "But they should still have a shadow when hit with wandlight." Then Ant stopped and looked at the Professor. "But even if it's too fast for that, you said you have an Extrasensory Charm on you. So, you'll be able to sense it moving around in the dark."

Spaulding nodded at this. The two of them were outside the castle gates now, on the trail that led to the bottom of Mount Greylock, with its branching trails leading around the mountain to the Quidditch field, Astronomy classroom, and other outdoor areas. They continued down the path into the valley. It was a quarter after six, and the sun was nearly set. It dipped behind another mountain, plunging them into deeper darkness even though the sky wasn't fully dark yet.

They walked farther on in silence. Mister Spaulding eventually led Ant into the woods, following a narrow, winding trail that Ant guessed had been made by animals in the forest. They eventually reached a clearing with a small ramshackle hut built in the center. There was a firepit with logs around it for benches.

"Light a fire," Spaulding said. "It'll draw the hidebehind to us."

Ant gathered some fallen sticks and branches and tossed them into the small circle of stones, then pointed his wand at it and muttered, " _Incendio_." Flames sprang up instantly in the pit.

The next two hours passed uneventfully. Ant occasionally gathered more wood to ensure their fire stayed dancing merrily, but between these instances he practiced the spells he had researched for stopping the hidebehind from being invisible. Spaulding paid him no mind; he seemed lost in meditation. Ant wasn't sure if he was aware of what Ant was doing; the Extrasensory Charm heightened his senses, but if Spaulding was focused so narrowly on listening for the hidebehind, he might just have blocked out Ant's practicing.

When Ant was finished creating the defensive perimeter he had envisioned with those two spells, he sat on the log opposite Spaulding and waited. He kept his eyes open, his head on a swivel. The forest was alive with the sounds of owls, insects, and small mammals. Once, Ant was certain he had seen a jackalope. He smiled at the thought. Jackalopes were something even his Nomaj parents would have enjoyed hearing about. He couldn't tell them his wand core was jackalope antler, but he _could_ tell his parents he thought he had seen a jackalope on a camping trip.

Ant thought about his parents. He had written them weekly letters, with little letters for Marie included with them, and after their first response contained Frances's address, he had begun writing to her every few weeks too. Their responses were mostly warm, but Ant could tell that Mae was bothered by the idea that she couldn't oversee his schoolwork. At his Nomaj schools, any time Ant had failed to turn in an assignment on time or gotten less than a perfect grade, he'd had to face the music when Mae found out about it. Here, his teachers didn't use online systems or send home regular report cards. When Mae had demanded one in a letter, Ant had gone to his Head of House for help. Professor Spaulding had perused the letter, then asked Ant what kinds of classes he might have had at a Nomaj school.

Ant's next letter home had included a report card with a note to Mae from Professor Spaulding. The report card contained classes like Chemistry, Algebra, and U.S. History. Ant had explained Nomaj grading scales to Professor Spaulding, who proceeded to mark each class "A+" except Chemistry, which she gave an "A-". "Let's be honest," she had said, "You're good at Potions but Brandt is top of the class." The note to Mae explained that the school wasn't accustomed to giving parents regular progress reports because they felt that it encouraged an environment of stress for students, but that parents should rest assured that the school would do everything in its power to push students to succeed.

"Is this lack of faith in your abilities normal in your parents?" Professor Spaulding had asked him concernedly.

Ant had shifted on his feet before answering. "Before I came to Ilvermorny," he explained tentatively, "I wasn't as driven to succeed at school. I was a good student, but…" He had trailed off. His parents would have said he was smart, but lazy.

"But bored," Professor Spaulding had concluded. "You weren't meant for a Nomaj education. I've seen your grades from that Nomaj school. Professor Boot explained that they were, at the very worst, above average." Ant had continued to squirm at this. Even now, Ant had never really grown accustomed to being praised. His entire childhood before now had been marked with backhanded compliments and sharp attention to his flaws.

While Ant mused about how his parents would respond to the report card, which had been sent to them directly by Professor Spaulding, he continued to peer around the clearing for any sign of movement. Eventually his reverie was broken by a notable movement: Mister Spaulding opened his eyes.

"The hidebehind is nearby," he said calmly. "It can't understand English but it will hear fear in your voice. We need to talk to lure it into the clearing and then-" He broke off, noticing the perimeter drawn around the spot they had made camp. "Oh damn, that's brilliant. Anyways, let's keep a conversation going. If it thinks we're distracted, it's more likely to come for one of us."

Ant nodded. "How long have you been Caretaker?"

"Oh, three years now. I spent some time at MACUSA after I graduated, then came back here to enjoy the quiet life." His head barely moved, but his eyes darted around as he tried to spot movement in the dancing firelight. "You're Nomaj-born, right? How long have you known you were a wizard?"

Ant thought for a moment before answering. "Professor Boot came to talk to my family right before New Year's Eve last year," he started. "My family didn't really take it well, but that was when I found out."

"But you knew before then, right? Weird things happening around you, stuff like that?"

Again, Ant thought for a moment. "There was one time… I don't know how much Professor Boot told you about my parents, but a few years ago I was in trouble. My mom was hitting me and, somehow, she cut her hand. I thought she had cut myself on my watch, but ever since I found out I was a wizard I've been afraid that maybe I did it. Then the day my parents found out I was a wizard, my mom tried to hit me, and I think I made a Shield Charm to block her. Her hands couldn't get anywhere near me."

He had been talking at Mister Spaulding's knees as he said this. He looked up to find a mix of pity and horror on the Caretaker's face. Spaulding moved toward him, and before Ant really knew what was happening, the Caretaker was hugging him. It was just a brief squeeze, then Spaulding let go. "I'm sorry that happened to you. If you want, we can arrange for some other family to take care of you. You don't need to go back into that. Especially with your mother being..." He trailed off. Whatever Ant's mother was, Spaulding didn't want to say the words.

Ant considered it, but he was shaking his head before he was even aware that he had already decided. "My parents aren't really the best, but I think they deserve a chance. My sisters keep leaving as early as possible. I don't want to abandon my dad."

Spaulding gripped his shoulder. "If your mother lays a hand on you again over the summer, I want you to write to me. I'll find a way that's faster than the Nomaj postal service or an owl."

Ant considered telling him about e-mail, but he remembered reading that concentrated magic caused electronics to malfunction and decided not to bother. Something caught his eye, however, and he calmly told the Caretaker, "It just stepped through the moat."

Around the campsite, Ant had practiced the Gouging Charm to create a shallow ring around them, then used an obscure ink-fountain charm he had discovered in one of the older books fill the moat with acid-green ink. Now, the hidebehind was sneaking towards them behind Mister Spaulding, its right foot gleaming bright green in the firelight.

Mister Spaulding spun on the spot, drawing his wand in the same motion, and shouted, " _Incarcerous_!" Ropes sprang into being around the invisible hidebehind and began tightening. The creature roared. It remained invisible, but Ant could see faint ripples in the air as it struggled with its bonds. Ant moved so that he and Spaulding formed a right angle with the hidebehind at the vertex, then carefully aimed his wand above the ropes.

" _Rictusempra_ ," he called out, and the creature, bound by the ropes, bent over slightly, making an odd coughing sound. It seemed incapacitated, so he moved slightly closer. "Are you going to stun it?" he asked Mister Spaulding.

"No," he answered, "its fur is highly magical, spells might deflect. Unless you know the Stunning Spell? A double stunner ought to do it."

"I know the incantation," Ant admitted, "but not the theory."

"Then hopefully you'll learn it in the next month," he said, "because this thing is just getting angry. Back up and be read-"

As he spoke, the hidebehind flashes into visibility for a split second. It was slightly taller than Spaulding, with a build somewhat like an underweight bear. Its fur was shaggy and immaculately white except for the green foot. It focused its attention on the ropes binding it, which it now managed to snap. It spun around, looking at Ant, whose Tickling Charm was still affecting it, and it leapt. Ant stumbled backwards, wand raised, and tripped, falling on his back. The hidebehind charged, stood over Ant, and dropped low, aiming a bite at Ant's throat.

Ant felt a rush of heat pass from his hand to his wand, and as the hidebehind's face neared his, it slammed into the Shield Charm Ant had accidentally cast. A tooth fell out and rolled down the edge of the Shield Charm to land in Ant's lap. The dazed hidebehind shook its head. Ant, afraid the charm might not hold for long, pointed his wand at its chest and shouted, " _Stupefy_!" The plant buds along the length of his wand crackled, and a few red sparks issued from the tip of the wand.

"Focus!" Spaulding shouted. He fired a Stunner of his own, but it deflected off the beast's back. The hidebehind raised its fists and slammed them down on the barrier between itself and Ant. The barrier faded, and the hidebehind opened its mouth, roaring and splattering Ant with saliva flecked with blood.

Ant pointed his wand into its mouth as it moved, shouting " _Atramenti_!" It was the first spell that came to his mind that he knew he could perform. A fountain of lurid green ink poured from the wandtip into the hidebehind's mouth, causing it to gag and splutter. Ant kicked at the creature, moving away from it as he broke off the spell. He rose to his feet and backed away. The hidebehind fell, retching and shaking, the fur around its mouth green. Mister Spaulding rushed forward and bound it with ropes again, then whispered, " _Mobilicorpus_." The hidebehind was lifted to an upright position, green ink pouring from its mouth as its head lolled.

Ant led the procession back up to the castle.


	3. The Ilvermorny Conspiracy Chapters 11-13

Chapter 11

The Expected and the Unexpected

Ant's next few detentions were nowhere near as dangerous or exciting. In the second detention, he helped clean the paint off the captive hidebehind. Ant had read about ghouls and knew that despite their appearance they were genuinely harmless, so it didn't much surprise him that the hidebehind adapted well to captivity. The Advanced Care of Magical Creatures students had been feeding it, and it was quite content to lay back and eat an entire honeyed ham while Ant used a Scouring Charm to remove the paint from its otherwise pristine fur. Ant cleaned around its mouth last, when the hidebehind was full and relaxed. Mister Spaulding had begun tutoring him in the use of the Stunning Spell, helped along by Ant's studies in _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_. There was an entire chapter detailing the use of the Stunning Spell, and Ant was grateful for the practice, since his study group had stopped practicing spells since Ant's alarm landed him in detention.

The hidebehind's paddock was technically a large outdoor cell with a shelter, a dilapidated (and waterproofed) Roman couch, a tree, and surrounded by magically reinforced chicken wire. Students lowered trays of food and refilled a trough of water, and the hidebehind reveled in luxury. There was a door, which magically locked when the hidebehind approached it but could still be unlocked by a counterspell, which Ant used when cleaning the hidebehind.

In Ant's third detention, he and Mister Spaulding gave the hidebehind a haircut. It seemed glad to be that much lighter on its feet, though it also appeared to be unable to turn fully invisible when its fur was short. The hairs were carefully harvested and stored in a sack for Mister Spaulding to take back up to the castle.

When Ant wasn't in class or detention, he was typically to be found reading in a quiet room, poring over _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ , taking notes on the casting of various spells found within. He had learned about a variety of spells which he had already been made familiar with by the Potter books, including, to his joy, the Patronus Charm. Ant was anxious and excited to cast it, but he avoided doing so on his own out of fear of the punishment that would come of being caught using more magic outside of a controlled environment.

Otherwise, Ant spent as much time as possible with his study group. They spent all of Halloween together, having been given the day off, studying and quizzing each other for hours before attending the Halloween feast. The blustery October faded into a drizzly November, whose sharp, cold rains crystallized into snowfall as the days grew shorter and colder. The first Quidditch match of the season hit, and as Donhold had predicted, Great Horned Serpent narrowly defeated Pukwudgie. Lunetta began spending more and more time at Quidditch practice, so she was absent from Ant's study group meetings as often as not. Ant still did his homework with her in the Wampus lounge after practice, though, preferring to use the study group time to focus on Herbology and Potions, the two classes he felt needed his efforts the most.

Ant had begun to wonder if Adrienne – if, indeed, it was her behind the attempts to humiliate him – had given up. It was when he went down to breakfast alone, early on the morning of the Quidditch match between Wampus and Thunderbird to discover that she had not.

The Dining Hall, unlike Hogwarts's Great Hall, was populated with dozens of round wooden tables to encourage the mingling of the different Houses. On each of these tables, Ant noticed a sheet of paper. Making his way to the table he usually occupied with his friends amid turning heads and ominous mutterings, Ant took a closer look at the paper on his table and his stomach immediately turned over. It was a letter, in Ant's handwriting and signed by him. But he had never written this.

 _Mom and Dad,_ the letter began,  
 _I'm doing well at this freak school. I've made many "friends" and can report some of their home addresses. I know learning this magic is immoral, but I am so glad to be able to serve this purpose for our cause. Our ancestor, Bartholomew Barebone, would be proud to see how far we've come on the path to exposing and eradicating magic. I only wish I could be involved in the attack on the homes of these godless monsters, but I know that maintaining my cover makes me more valuable. I hope you're doing okay, and the girls. Glory to the Scourers._

 _Love,_

 _Ant Acklin_

Below his signature were a number of addresses with family names next to them. The names Tailor, Rappaport, Villanueva, Markson, Eckhart, Lakhani, and Frank were listed, along with a handful of others. Ant looked up. The Dining Hall wasn't full yet, but every student who had seen the letter looked straight at Ant. He burst into a cold sweat and fled the Dining Hall.

Ant didn't go to the Quidditch match that day. He ran straight to Professor Spaulding's office and showed her the note. She read it in horror. "It's faked," Ant said. "I promise, I didn't write that."

"It's your handwriting," she said dully.

Ant scowled at her. "Professor, you have to know that doesn't prove anything. If I can use a spell to move ink around on paper without distorting the handwriting, any student here can. All they would need is a sample of my handwriting. And you already know that whoever tore my dorm apart also stole my journal."

"I've contacted the bookstore you bought that journal from. It would take considerable magical strength to break the security enchantments on their books. If they succeeded in doing so, we're looking at a sixth- or seventh-year student. Or not a student at all." She looked up from the note to look in his eyes for the first time since he set the note in front of her. "You can't go to the match today."

She ordered him to remain in the Wampus lounge for his safety, but even that didn't help. Ant had only turned into the next corridor before he was hit by several jinxes. He collapsed and could feel something growing on his face, obscuring his eyes. All he could see of his attacker was the navy and cranberry uniform that all students – and some of the staff – wore. They were gone by the time Professor Spaulding burst out of her office to investigate the noise.

Ant woke in the school's hospital wing. It was a ground floor room he had walked past but had never entered before. It was rather like the dining hall in miniature, but with beds along the walls and partitions between them. The school had an appointed Healer, a young dark-haired witch with a warm smile who Ant had previously seen eating dinner in the Dining Hall. Her smile today was strained, but she brought him a meal after he woke and told him she'd be letting Professors Spaulding and Boot know he was awake.

They entered just as he finished eating his lunch, and immediately asked if he had seen who attacked him. "I know they were wearing a school uniform," he told them, "but I couldn't see too clearly."

"Makes sense," Professor Spaulding said. "Tentacles growing out of your face, hair transfiguring into rock. It's a good thing Healer Oxendine could take care of you; I've never seen a spell that could cause so many different effects…"

"I have," Professor Boot interrupted her. "Back when I was in school." He paused, clearly debating how much detail to give, then continued, "At the end of my fifth year, a bunch of Slytherin students tried to gang up on Harry Potter for getting their dads sent to prison."

"Another Dumbledore's Army story?" Professor Spaulding asked dryly, but she smiled, and Ant had a feeling the topic was something of an inside joke for them.

"And," he pressed on, "they decided to do it right outside the compartment I was in with a group of other D.A. members. We reacted, blasting the lot of them with a pretty wide variety of jinxes. Any time one of them was hit by two jinxes at once, they reacted to each other, resulting in strange mutations."

"So, whoever attacked me wasn't alone," Ant said. "They can't have been if I was hit by multiple jinxes at once."

"The problem is," Professor Boot puzzled, "there's no way to tell whether the people who attacked you are the ones who were behind the other things. They might just be students who believed that you really wrote the letter."

"And as such," Professor Spaulding continued, "we're not allowing anyone to visit you, since they might be any of the various culprits coming back to finish the job. And we're keeping you here the whole weekend."

Ant gasped in protest. "But, Professor, I'll be so _bored_. At least let some of my friends come talk to me, please!"

She considered it for a moment. "I'm more concerned for your safety than for any boredom you may experience. But I'll allow you three chosen visitors."

"Shaun Brandt," Ant said instantly, "And Lunetta and Donhold."

Donhold was his first visitor, some hours later after dinner. Ant had spent the time after the two professors departed reading _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_. Ant was determined that nobody would ever get away with attacking him from behind again. He had found himself thinking primarily of Mae while jotting down notes about enchanting clothing items with protective spells. He had promised Mister Spaulding to tell him if Mae ever hit him again, but with enchanted clothing, he could prevent her from hitting him without breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. After all, he could cast the enchantments before leaving Ilvermorny.

Ant was glad that Donhold's arrival dragged him away from those dark thoughts. Donhold immediately launched into a description of the day's Quidditch match, which had been a very one-sided affair in Wampus's favor. Lunetta had been extremely pleased to get to actually play after one of the Wampus Chasers took a Bludger to the neck and had to be escorted off the field. Ant wondered whether that student had been brought in before he woke up in the hospital wing. Lunetta had even scored a goal herself, according to Donhold, but when the team returned to the castle – they had been on the field since sunrise, meaning none of them had heard about the letter until after the match – she had heard what happened.

"She flew into a rage. Screamed about learning who she could and couldn't trust, stormed up to the Wampus girls' dorms. Elen says she spent the next two hours writing a letter to her dad about it. She's _pissed_ , man," Donhold said with concern. "I don't think she's gonna come visit you."

Donhold left when Healer Oxendine came by with Ant's dinner tray, but he emptied a bunch of books out of his backpack before making his exit. "Thought you'd wanna read, at least." Ant appreciated the thought, as he wasn't far from being finished with the Defense book that Professor Boot had given him. His friend had brought him books; Ant didn't even care that they were all books he had read outlined already.

No more visitors came that night, nor the next morning. Ant started thinking that perhaps Donhold was right, and Lunetta believed the letter was something he had written. When Healer Oxendine came to bring him his lunch tray, she informed him that he had a visitor. Ant hoped that Lunetta would come in to tell him that, of course, she believed he was innocent, and whoever did this should have known better than to come between two close friends. Ant was almost disappointed to see Shaun come around the partition instead.

Shaun, for his part, didn't look happy to see Ant either. His eyes looked red and a little puffy, like he had been crying but tried to hide it by washing his face repeatedly. He sat by Ant's bed, glaring down at his hands, which were balled up in his lap, and neither of them spoke for several moments. Ant didn't even touch his food while waiting for Shaun to speak. As the silence carried on, Ant began to fear that even Shaun believed the letter was his, and he wasn't sure he could bear that kind of pain.

When Shaun finally spoke, his voice sounded flat and angry. His usual cheer and optimism seemed to have caught in his throat, judging by the raspy quality his voice took. "Why didn't you tell me," he muttered through clenched teeth, "about the people trying to scare you into leaving the school?"

Suddenly, the anxiety and fear that had slipped a cold, grasping hand around Ant's heart seemed to have chased away. _Shaun didn't believe the letter_. Ant stuttered out, "I, I, I did- didn't…" He could barely string two words together out of relief.

"You didn't what? _Trust_ me?" Shaun finally looked up, angry tears welling in his eyes. "You should have told me the truth."

"No," Ant said, "I didn't think I _needed_ to tell you. I thought you already knew. You came to help me when my dorm was wrecked…"

"Jacob came and got me. No explanations. Just told me you needed a friend. And then I got there, and it looked like someone had put your books through a shredder, and I helped you fix them. You didn't tell me why or who or what was going on. I figured you'd open up eventually, but then I had to find out through _this_." He tossed a crumpled ball of paper at Ant's face. It hit him square in the nose then dropped down into the bowl of soup on his tray.

Ant couldn't help but smile as he looked down at the paper soaking up broth and sinking into the bowl. "You didn't believe it."

Shaun scoffed. "Nobody who's ever seen you cast a spell could possibly believe it."

"Why?" Ant asked, without the faintest idea of why that proved anything.

"Because every time you get to do magic, you look like you've been awarded the MACUSA Medal of Highest Honor. Nobody," Shaun insisted, "is that good of an actor."

There was a long moment of silence between them, then Shaun sighed. "The reason I was so angry about this is that you didn't ask me for help dealing with it."

"Aw, come on, there's nothing you cou-"

"Yeah," Shaun interrupted, "there was. You're Nomaj-born, you probably don't know who my grandma is. Opha Henries-Brandt." Ant stared blankly, then slightly shook his head. "She was the first Nomaj-born witch to attend Ilvermorny after Rappaport's Law was repealed," Shaun explained. "She was attacked and humiliated on a daily basis. Parents pulled their kids from the school in protest. Half the students who stayed held rallies to get her removed. Some of the staff joined them. Most of the students wouldn't take a side, which means they sat there and tolerated the abuse thrown at my grandmother. A small number of close friends stood by her side. My grandma did everything she could to prove that she belonged here, then had to keep fighting for employment after she graduated. She didn't stop fighting her own people to be treated like a witch until she could guarantee that what happened to her would never happen to another witch or wizard. I could have _helped_. You just didn't trust me enough to ask for help."

Ant absorbed this information, then sighed. "You're right," he said numbly. "I don't think I've ever really trusted anyone. My mother left when I was too young to remember because four kids was too much responsibility," Ant explained, quoting something his father had told him almost word-for-word. "My sisters all tried in their own way to be the woman of the house with her gone, but we were all so happy when Dad met Mae. She was sweet and seemed to really like us. She came up to spend a few weeks with us while her divorce was going through, then came to live with us before Christmas. About three years ago. I was so happy to have a mom, I saved every penny I could get my hands on and bought her a Christmas present. A glass swan with its wingtips and beak painted gold. I don't even know what happened to it. Broken or lost by now."

Ant sat his tray aside and pulled his knees up to his chest. "When she found out her daughters wanted to stay with their dad, Mae changed. She went from being loving and kind and patient to being angry all the time. She started fighting with Nicole. One night, one of their fights got really violent. I don't know what happened. I was asleep when it started, then woke up in the dark hearing the screams and the punching and Frances and Marie freaking out. Nicole got shipped off to live with our real mom before any of us had a chance to even say goodbye. Then we moved back to Las Vegas, all the way across the country from where Mae's daughters lived. Everything got worse. Nothing was ever good enough. She would yell over nothing, ground us over nothing. And since Nicole wasn't there for her to fight with, she moved on to hitting Frances and me."

Ant paused, thinking about how he had changed since leaving home. Before he left, he had walked on eggshells to ensure that nothing he did would make Mae angry enough to try to hit him or take the fancy private school away from him. He didn't think about what it would take to appease her anymore. Any time he thought of preventing her from hurting him or his sisters, it was in terms of standing up to her. And he knew that if she tried to prevent him from coming back to Ilvermorny, he could find help with his friends and professors.

"But," Ant continued after a moment, looking back into Shaun's eyes, "if I've ever trusted anyone, it's you. I'm just still learning how to trust." He reached out toward Shaun, who grabbed his hand and squeezed it. When Shaun let go, Ant asked, "Is it true Lunetta thinks I wrote the letter?"

"I don't know," Shaun admitted. "She was furious when she heard about the rumors, then demanded to see the letter for herself. After that, she stormed off to the Wampus dorms. All I know from there is that she wrote to her father." Shaun fidgeted for a moment, then continued, "She's not alone there. I'm pretty sure everyone whose address was listed wrote home, and probably a lot of others, too. I wrote home, telling my dad to ask my grandma for her help."

"Thanks," Ant said sadly, wishing that none of it had been necessary.

Healer Oxendine came by shortly afterwards to harangue Ant for not eating, replacing his soup with one that didn't have soggy paper in it and chivvying Shaun out. After the hall's double doors came quietly closed behind Shaun, she informed him that she'd been speaking with the headmistress.

"Professor Hicks wants you back in class tomorrow, so you can head out in the morning. If you like I can get your friends to come down early to escort you." She spoke while he ate, ensuring that he finished the soup and sandwich, as well as drinking a cup or two from the pitcher of magically-chilled water she had brought.

"Okay," Ant said, relieved. "Will I be sleeping here still or going back to Wampus?"

"Back to your dorm," she said, "unless you feel it's too unsafe. All up to you. Professor Hicks told the school that there was no proof you wrote that letter, and plenty of reason to believe you didn't. And she's declared that if the two who attacked you don't step forward, the punishment will only get more severe. She hopes that'll stop anyone from trying to attack you again."

Ant woke up the next morning to hear the doors to the hospital wing opening. He was instantly alert, thinking his friends were there to escort him to breakfast or to class, and jumped out of bed and started getting dressed. By the time he could hear angry whispering, he had everything on but his shoes and jacket. He slipped on his shoes and started tying them, then peeked around the corner of the partition that prevented his bed from being seen from the entrance to get a look at who it was. They weren't his friends. They weren't even students.

Three men in dark suits had entered the hospital wing and were arguing quietly with Healer Oxendine. She stood, arms akimbo, and was repeatedly demanding that they leave. When one of the men tried to move past her, she drew her wand. Faster than they could even draw their wands, she fired off two spells. First, an enormous silver cougar erupted from her wand with a roar, causing the man that had tried to push past her to stumble backwards. The cougar ran through the still-open doors of the hospital wing and turned a corner, disappearing from view. Second, she erected a Shield Charm between herself and the men, preventing them from coming nearer to any of the students under her protection.

Ant quickly ducked back behind his partition, but he heard Healer Oxendine say clearly, "You will not be taking any of the students in my charge from the hospital wing without the approval of the Headmistress. I am legally obligated to protect them and not legally required to turn my charges over to _anyone_ without the Headmistress's explicit consent. Please. Wait. Outside." She spoke the last three words through clenched teeth. A moment later, Ant heard the door close forcefully. He finished pulling on his jacket as Healer Oxendine approached his cubicle.

"Oh, you're awake. You heard them, then?" She said when she saw him, up and dressed.

"I heard you say that you wouldn't let them take anyone."

"Sit down, Anthony," she said kindly. He did, on the chair beside his bed rather than the bed itself. "These men aren't here to hurt you. They're from MACUSA. They're here about that letter. Some students wrote home and their families contacted MACUSA about a potential terrorist attack on the homes of some members of the magical community. These men are Aurors. They protect witches and wizards from people who want to hurt us. They want to verify that there really is no threat against the community, or if there is, to verify that you aren't threatening anyone. They can't take you without the Headmistress's permission, and she'll only allow them to take you if it's the best way to resolve this situation, okay?"

Ant felt numb. He was being _arrested_? But he knew he shouldn't feel surprised. The letter had mentioned attacks on wizarding homes, and Ant knew that threats of terrorism would be taken seriously. It was only two years ago that he sat in his fifth-grade classroom on a mid-September day, watching a video of two skyscrapers in New York collapsing after being hit by hijacked planes. Terrorism wasn't something to joke about. The fact that someone was framing _him_ for a terror threat, and that the government believed it, drained everything out of him. Having some books and journals shredded didn't even register next to this.

"Just remember," Healer Oxendine concluded, squeezing Ant's shoulder, "even if they arrest you, Professor Hicks will make sure the truth is brought out. You didn't do anything wrong, so you'll be right as rain."

Within a few minutes, Ant heard the doors open again. He heard a voice – that of Professor Hicks – angrily telling the Aurors, "No, you wait out here. I don't want you picking fights with my staff. She had every right." The doors closed again behind her.

Ant came out of his cubicle to greet the Headmistress. Her hair wasn't entirely in its customary braids; as he bade her good morning, he noticed that parts of her hair were in the process of braiding themselves. He was intrigued but felt it might be rude to stare, so he maintained eye contact.

"Good morning to you too, Mister Acklin," she answered. "Or it would be without these idiots coming to arrest an eleven-year-old in the interest of national security." She fixed him with a concerned look. "Let's step back in here and have a seat." Ant returned to his cubicle and sat on the foot of the bed. Professor Hicks sat in the chair, fidgeting and shifting to make herself comfortable. When at last she had found the perfect position, she spoke.

"The night your bed was moved from your dormitory to the Wampus lounge, the culprit issued a demand that you leave Ilvermorny," she began. "When your room was trashed, and all your books torn apart, they left something there that Jacob Campbell immediately brought to me."

Ant thought back to that day. "The roll of cloth?"

Professor Hicks's mouth twitched at the corners. "Sharp kid, Acklin. Yes, it was that roll of cloth you saw. It had some information on it that I thought was falsified, so I made sure you didn't see it and hunted down the information myself." She paused, giving Ant an opportunity to speak that he didn't take.

"It was a family tree," she said. "It traced the lineage of one of the American magical community's most dangerous enemies, directly from Bartholomew Barebone down to your mother." Ant went cold. "I'm sorry to say that was true. But when that information didn't make it to the public, the culprit tried again, and with far less subtlety. I was too busy tracking down proof of the family tree and wasn't watching over you like I should have been. And I couldn't have Andy Spaulding follow you around everywhere without raising suspicions, so he could only protect you during your detentions. These attacks on your character and on your person shouldn't have succeeded. This is my fault. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, ma'am," Ant countered. "The only ones to blame are the ones who started this."

"Maybe so. But now I have to turn you over to MACUSA, so they can investigate whether your family are a cell of Scourers. I will find you legal help. Do not offer up your wand when they take you. It will need to be scanned when you arrive at the Woolworth Building. If they return it to you, place it in your jacket pocket. If not, well, we'll get it back when you're exonerated." She stood and gestured for him to come along. Together they walked to the entrance. Outside the doors, the three Aurors waited to take Ant away.

Chapter Twelve

Into the Woolworth Building

The Aurors led Ant out of the castle and down the path to the base of the mountain. One of them stood on each side, while the third stayed directly behind him a couple paces back. They hadn't demanded his wand, so Ant didn't offer it up or pull it out of his inside jacket pocket. They didn't speak to him directly at all, which was slightly disconcerting but mostly awkward. About halfway down the mountain, Ant tried sparking a conversation.

"So, you guys are Aurors? What's that like?" he asked brightly.

The wizard to his left, a man with pale skin and black hair, including his thick but short-trimmed beard, said, "Shut up, kid. We're not here to make friends with you." Ant recognized him as the one who had tried to push his way past Healer Oxendine.

The wizard on Ant's right scowled. He was Latino, younger than the other two, and clean-shaven. "Innocent until proven guilty, Fischer. He's eleven. Don't treat him like a hardened criminal." To Ant, he said, "Being an Auror is pretty crazy. You get to do all kinds of cool stuff, but it comes with a lot of responsibility." After a beat, he added, "I'm Guillermo Lopez, by the way. That," he jerked his thumb to the man on Ant's left, "is Raymond Fischer, and the wizard behind us is Helmut Weiss." Ant looked behind him and the wizard, tall and lean with a lined face, tipped his hat at him.

"Nice to meet you all," Ant said with just a hint of sarcasm.

They reached the bottom of the mountain, and crossed the boundary marked by a low, crumbling stone wall. Ant turned back and couldn't see the castle despite the peak of Mount Greylock being plainly visible. Fischer grasped Ant's shoulder roughly, squeezing tight enough for Ant to yelp with pain. As Ant yelped, he felt a surge of heat pass through his shoulder; Fischer released him, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, waving his burnt fingers. He reached for his wand, but Lopez stepped between Ant and Fischer. He was about to object to whatever Fischer intended Weiss spoke from behind Ant. It was the first time Ant had heard him speak. His voice was deep and slow, and positively dripped with derision.

"The hell's wrong with you? You have a scared kid, arrested by a government he barely knows anything about, and you think you can manhandle him like that and not get an emotional reaction? Get back to the office. Lopez and I can handle this from here. Don't think I won't be giving a full report on your temperament to Director Carneirus."

Eyes wide, face as white as a sheet, Fischer Disapparated on the spot.

"Don't judge him – or the Auror office – too harshly by this," Helmut Weiss told Ant. "His sister's address was in that letter. The Director was trying to see how he'd do at keeping a level head. Aurors don't always have the privilege of recusing themselves from situations like this; the community is too small." Weiss gestured for Lopez to take Ant and stepped backwards before turning in place and Disapparating.

"Have you done Side-Along Apparition before?" Lopez asked him.

"Yessir, with Professor Boot," Ant replied. He reached out and grasped Lopez's arm just above the elbow. His arm was firm and muscular beneath his suit jacket. Lopez did an about-face, bringing Ant with him through compressing darkness.

They emerged in the shadow of a building. Ant looked up and gasped. He had seen pictures and videos of New York City before, but that didn't compare to the actual experience of being surrounded by buildings so tall he had to look straight up to see the top. As he released Carlos, Weiss appeared around the corner of the alley they had Apparated into, saying, "Come on, we don't have all day."

They stepped out onto the sidewalk. The first thing Ant noticed was that everyone seemed to be walking at the top speed they could manage. He power-walked to keep up with Lopez and Weiss, and not to be trampled by passing Nomajes. Shockingly to Ant, people just walked into the street as if daring the cars in traffic to hit them. There was enough traffic that the cars never seemed to be moving fast, which probably contributed to their confidence that they'd survive a collision. Ant's head was on a swivel; he was as wonderstruck and mystified as he'd been at Death Valley Town or seeing Ilvermorny for the first time. They turned from the street they were on to a much larger thoroughfare – Ant checked the street signs and saw with a thrill that they were turning onto Broadway.

There seemed to be a park on the opposite side of the street; as Ant craned his neck to look, Lopez glanced at it too and told him quietly, "Nomaj City Hall. We're headed _there_ , though." He pointed up ahead of them.

The closer they got to the building, the less Ant could see of it. It was immense – he had no sense of scale to begin guessing how many floors it had. The closest comparison he could make was the Stratosphere Tower in Las Vegas, which was visible from almost anywhere in the city. Ant thought the Stratosphere was taller, but it occurred to him that it was a lone skyscraper on a relatively low skyline, and he was judging its height against one of an uncountable number of skyscrapers on Manhattan Island. As he thought this, he wondered uncomfortably how far they were from Ground Zero but didn't ask his escort.

As they reached the Woolworth building, Ant saw Nomajes entering and exiting freely through a revolving door. He looked at Lopez, a confused expression spreading across his face, and Weiss stepped forward to talk to a man in a doorman's uniform standing beside the revolving door. He stepped out of the way and opened a side door, allowing them entry.

There was nobody coming through the revolving door on this side. The entryway opened to a short flight of stairs separated by a brief landing. Ant made the mistake of looking over the edge of the railing. There were so many levels extending into the building that he couldn't see the deepest level from here. His stomach gave a lurch. He looked up and found himself equally confused though slightly less disoriented: the building seemed have just one above-ground level that reached all the way to the distant ceiling.

Then he was turning his head this way and that: there were creatures he thought must be house-elves – they certainly met the description – polishing wands and mending casual wear and tear in witches' and wizards' clothes or shoes. Ant saw origami cranes flying between levels and paper mice scurrying along the floor. One mouse came within a foot of Ant; he could see that it had handwriting on it. The paper creatures were _messengers_. As Ant watched, the mouse crawled to the edge of the staircase and threw itself off the edge, refolding itself into a crane and taking flight.

Lopez and Weiss led Ant to a bank of elevators. They were black with ornate gold fixings, and rather than being enclosed like any other elevator Ant had ever seen, they were essentially cages. Ant was apprehensive but trusted that magical elevators must be safe, even if they looked like they were built a hundred years before. An elevator slid open as they approached. Inside was what Ant assumed to be a goblin. He was about the size of a house-elf, and had long, pointed ears, like a house-elf, but had a sturdier build, long-fingered hands, dark hair, and was fully dressed. He did not react to the Aurors or Ant with any undue deference. He merely nodded at them in greeting and asked which floor.

"Major Investigations, Redduk," said Lopez. "We have to see the Director."

The goblin nodded, looking at Ant as he pressed a button with his walking stick. "This is the kid they're all talking about then? The Scourer?"

" _Alleged_ Scourer," Weiss corrected. "We'll be investigating whether there's any truth to that accusation."

Redduk shrugged, then the elevator came to a halt. "Good luck then, kid," he said as the wizards exited the elevator.

The Aurors led Ant into a dark meeting chamber. There was a table in the center with two chairs: one on the side nearest the entrance, and one opposite. Lopez directed Ant to the chair, and Ant took a seat. Lopez sat on the edge of the table while Weiss continued into the office at the far end, knocking on the door frame before entering.

"You're about to meet the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Lopez whispered to Ant. "A good part of how this goes is gonna depend on you treating her with the proper respect, okay? You ever meet anyone real important before you found out you were a wizard?"

Ant had never met a government official, but his dad had once helped build a recording studio for a famous rock star in Las Vegas, and Ant remembered how much stricter his parents' expectations of his behavior had become when in his presence. He nodded to Lopez.

"Well, ramp that up to eleven. This lady ain't one to mess with."

He got up as Weiss emerged from the office followed by a witch. She was short and slightly plump. Her hair was grey and pulled back into an elegant bun. She wasn't smiling, but her face did have noticeable laugh lines. She wore a dark green pantsuit.

"Type up that report," she whispered. Her voice carried and reminded Ant of his grandmother's: slightly scratchy from a lifetime of smoking. "Then get it back to me. I wouldn't care if his great-great-whatever was Josiah Jackson himself, that's not how an Auror comports himself." As she approached the table, she said only slightly more loudly, "Give us the room."

Lopez and Weiss both immediately exited towards the elevators. Ant and the Director regarded each other in silence. She seemed to be sizing him up. Ant wondered if she was testing his patience, so he watched her just as carefully, taking care not to seem like he was staring rudely. At long last, she spoke again.

"My name is Astrid Carneirus," she told him. "I'm the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

She paused, so Ant spoke. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am," he said politely. "I'm Anthony Acklin."

"You know why you've been brought here?" she said, voicing it as a question.

"Someone wrote a letter threatening to attack a bunch of peoples' homes," Ant responded. "They signed it with my name."

Director Carneirus nodded. "I've spoken with Professor Hicks and Professor Spaulding. They seem certain of your innocence. They say you're a gifted young wizard." She paused for a moment, but her tone of voice made it seem like she didn't consider the professors' words of praise to have much weight here. Ant remained silent. "Tell me," she said, "what do you know about Rappaport's Law?"

Ant almost smiled. "It was enacted in 1790 because a witch named Dorcus Twelvetrees told a handsome Nomaj about the magical community to impress him," he said, reciting his notes from memory. "The man turned out to be a descendant of Scourers who escaped justice, and he tried to bring the wrath of the Nomaj community down on wizards. A lot of people were obliviated but MACUSA just couldn't get them all. So, they passed a law that stated that the magical community couldn't communicate or mingle or make friends with Nomajes or marry them and have kids with them anymore. Nomaj-born witches and wizards weren't allowed to go to Ilvermorny. That resulted in a lot of bad things, like the Obscurial that tore up New York in 1926. Eventually MACUSA decided to relax the law in favor of allowing those kids to get an education, but that meant repealing the law entirely, because otherwise MACUSA would have to kidnap the kids to send them to Ilvermorny. The law was fully repealed in 1965, and Opha Henries was the first Nomaj-born student accepted into the school in ages."

Director Carneirus blinked, then cackled. "Did they force-feed you _A History of Western Wizardry_ for breakfast before taking you from the school?"

"No, ma'am," Ant said. "I wasn't allowed to eat breakfast at all."

She brushed past this statement with a snort. "You mentioned the repeal in 1965. Do you know about the other laws that were passed in its place?"

Ant blanked.

"Ask your History of Magic professor for some supplementary reading when or if you see him again," she suggested. "Among the laws passed after Rappaport's Law was repealed, you will find the Barebone Act. It states that no child, born to Nomaj parents but possessing magical ability, will be admitted into Ilvermorny or allowed to be aware of or participate in magical society, if it can be factually verified that they are descended from a known Scourer."

Ant went pale, his eyes widening. "But – I'm a _wizard_. You can't just make me live as a Nomaj again, _please_." Tears swam in his eyes, impairing his vision.

"Our investigation will be in two parts, Mister Acklin," Director Carneirus continued. "First, we will send a team to search your home for any sign of Scourer activity. You and your family will be interrogated thoroughly. If we are satisfied that you have no Scourer connections, you will be allowed to resume your lives.

"The second prong of our investigation will be looking into the truth behind the claim that you are descended from Bartholomew Barebone through your mother. I am aware that the Headmistress has already done her own investigation. We will request her sources and perform our own investigation separately. If the investigation proves you to be descended from Bartholomew Barebone, you will be expelled from Ilvermorny, Obliviated, and returned to your life as a Nomaj."

Ant blinked furiously, trying to clear his eyes. Hot tears spilled down his face. "I'm innocent," he said, "and even if I am descended from a Scourer, I'm not guilty of their crimes. I didn't _do_ anything but try to be a good student. A good wizard."

"Then," she concluded, standing, "for your sake, I hope you're not related to Barebone. Lopez!" As she called his name, the Auror stepped around the corner of the doorframe he had exited through.

"Ma'am?"

"Escort Mister Acklin to his cell, please."

Lopez took Ant by the arm gently and led him away. They returned to the elevator bank, where Lopez hit a down button. The grille instantly slid open, revealing a different goblin bellboy. He nodded gravely at Lopez, then waved his hand, closing the door and causing the elevator to descend to the lower levels.

Lopez kept up a steady stream of encouragement, but Ant didn't pay any attention to him. His mind was blazing, trying to find a way out of this. They hadn't taken his wand. Nobody had even thought to ask if he still _had_ it. So, if worst came to worst, he could try to fight his way out.

He knew he'd never make it outside. He needed to find some way to get himself off the hook. Professor Hicks, he remembered, had confirmed that it was true: his mother was descended from Bartholomew Barebone. Ant wished she had shown him the tapestry with the family tree on it; now he was wondering if the name at the bottom of the tree was _Johanna_ or _Mae_. Perhaps everyone was forgetting that his father had divorced his mother and remarried, and it was Mae who was descended from Scourers – not Ant. Ant was sure it would save him from expulsion.

That was plan A: find out whether it was his mother or stepmother on the tree. Ant wasn't sure about plans B through Y. The last resort was trying to escape. And then, when he reached his cell, it went from the final option to not being an option at all.

The cell block was dimly lit and had stone walls. Lopez stopped outside one of the doors and told Ant, "This is it. We'll check in with you in an hour or two for food." He opened the door and gestured for Ant to enter. When he did, he closed the door behind Ant. The room was pitch black. Ant listened while Lopez walked away, then felt along the wall to figure out what kind of space he was working with. His hand collided with vertical window blinds.

Ant froze. He hadn't seen any windows from the outside. He pulled the blinds apart; the dim light from the hallway did not penetrate the window. Ant felt in the other direction and his hands found another door; this one led into a small closet. He stepped out of it, closed the closet door, and continued feeling his way around. His stomach plummeted as he stepped from the carpeted living room into the cramped kitchen, feeling his way past the alcove with the dining table where he and Frances had eaten so many times. Ant reached for a spot along the wall and found it: the light switch. His eyes had adjusted to the dark; for a moment he was blinded.

It was as if he had never left. He walked back into the living room and turned on a light there. He understood why there was no window on the outer wall of the cell: instead of glass, the window had a pane of smooth, grey stone. Ant started turning back from the window when a hand grasped his wrist tightly. He jumped about a foot in the air and jerked his arm away. Then he saw who was squeezing his wrist. It was Mae.

She had had a look of rage on her face, but it whitened and became shock. She let out a surprised yell several seconds later: Tony and Marie came out from the bedroom, Tony holding a hunting knife, and Marie, a baseball bat. They dropped these when they saw Ant, running over to hug him.

"Ant! You got so tall!" Ant realized it was true as his father said it; he was almost shoulder-height to Tony now. After everyone greeted and hugged him, they asked, "How did you get here?"

"Someone came to get me from the school," Ant said. He wasn't sure how honest to be. "Government people," he added, feeling that it was honest enough.

"But how did you get _inside_?" Mae pressed. The windows have all been paved over with concrete and the door was bricked up. We haven't been able to get outside all morning."

"I came in through the door," Ant said, confused. He went back to the front door and opened it. Sure enough, he found himself face-to-face with a brick wall. Ant inspected the bricks and considered pulling out his wand to prod at various bricks. He didn't want to in front of Mae. "Do you know how this happened?" he asked tentatively.

Tony shook his head, but Mae jabbed a finger at Ant's chest. " _You_ know what's going on here, I know it. They wouldn't have brought you here if you didn't have something to do with it."

Ant froze, and he could tell that his face gave away that he did know the truth. "You literally wouldn't believe me if I told you," he finally said after a few moments' quick thinking turned up no easy way to tell the truth.

Marie sat on the couch, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. Tony sagged down onto the couch beside her. Mae stayed, confrontationally, within arm's reach of Ant.

"Try me," she snarled.

Ant wasn't sure what made him do it, but before he could stop himself, he was explaining, snidely and succinctly. "I go to a school for wizards, where someone hates the fact that a kid with non-magic parents is allowed to go because they think my ancestor is a terrorist. So, they framed me for a terrorist attack and now we're trapped in a prison cell at the bottom of the Woolworth Building in New York City."

It had come out sounding sarcastic, and Ant regretted that as soon as the last word left his mouth and he saw the look on Mae's face. She stepped in with a hand raised, ready to smack him in the mouth. Ant decided in an instant, or had decided long ago and was only now aware of it, that he wouldn't need Mister Spaulding to protect him; he was going to protect himself. "Be a smart-ass to me," she began ominously, but by the time those words were out, Ant smoothly moved out of her reach and drew his wand.

"I told you," he said, pointing the wand at her face and stepping around the coffee table so it was between them, "I go to a school for wizards. Someone there hates me because they think, since my parents are nonmagical, that I must be descended from a wizard terrorist. They planted a letter supposedly from me to you guys claiming that we were planning a terror attack on some wizard families, so they arrested us all while they figure out what's going on, and we're in a prison cell at their government building in New York."

Mae paced as well, keeping her eyes focused on Ant's wand while Ant spoke. He continued moving and gently pushing other objects, like Mae's computer chair, into her path as he did so. When he finished explaining the second time, she looked from his wandtip to his eyes, then said, "You're not a wizard. Whatever this is, your private school days are over. You're too big for your britches, mister. Time you started living in reality instead of this fantasy bullsh-"

Ant jabbed his wand in her direction, muttering, " _Silencio_." Mae's voice died mid-word. She continued moving her mouth frantically, still trying to speak. Ant turned to his father. "I'm a wizard. Ilvermorny isn't a college prep school. It's a school for wizards."

Tony was flabbergasted. "Why did they _lie_ about it?"

Ant smiled sadly. "They didn't, Dad. At least not at first." He pointed at Mae, who was screaming silently, red in the face. "When they told the truth, she attacked the professor who came to explain things, and after he left she attacked me. Woke me up early, burned my books, and was about to beat the crap out of me in the parking lot when the school employee decided her view of magic was too dangerous to let you guys know about me being a wizard." Mae had stopped raging, and was listening intently, though she still looked furious.

"When wizards first came to the Americas from Europe, they were followed by Puritans. The Puritans had a very… _medieval_ view of magic. The magical community was scattered and had no real laws governing them. The Scourers stepped up as law enforcers, like sheriffs in the Old West. Except they had no law above them, no responsibility, only power. And you know what they say about power," Ant paused. He waited a moment.

"Power corrupts," Marie said.

"Exactly," Ant continued. "The Scourers became bounty hunters, but they didn't just hunt down criminals. They turned over anyone they could get paid for. Sometimes they even hunted witches for the Puritans. They turned over innocent Nomajes – non-magical people," he explained upon seeing confused looks. "American term for Muggles. Every once in a while, Scourers would expose actual witches and wizards, making sure to steal their wands so they couldn't use magic to free themselves. They got innocent people killed just for to fill their pockets with gold," Ant said bitterly.

Ant described the formation of MACUSA, stopping to explain terminology when necessary. He talked about Bartholomew Barebone's seduction of Dorcus Twelvetrees, and how the incident became the biggest break of the International Statue of Secrecy since it was implemented. He informed his family about how Rappaport's Law was repealed, and how it meant that Nomaj-borns could attend Ilvermorny once more. Ant saw that Mae had a look on her face that said, "If they didn't go to magic school, you don't need to either."

In response, he said, "You should hear what happened to some of the kids that didn't get to learn how to control their magic. They knew something was different about them, and they were afraid of it, sometimes because their parents tried to beat the weird out of them." Mae nodded at this as if she thought those parents were onto something.

Ant continued. "Those kids tried to stop being magical and ended up turning into Obscurials. Their magic ended up bursting out of them when they couldn't control it anymore, killing themselves and sometimes their families. Their parents killed them as sure as if they had hit them with a truck," Ant intoned sharply. " _I'm_ not like those kids. You will _never_ make me ashamed of my magic. And you _won't_ lay a hand on me again." He stared into Mae's eyes until she looked away. After a moment, Ant turned his wand back on her and said, " _Finite_." Mae cleared her throat.

Mae spoke a moment later. "So, where are they? Shouldn't they be searching the house for evidence or something?"

Ant thought for a moment. "I think they _are_. Like I said, we're in New York right now. I think they just made the cell look like the apartment, so you guys wouldn't freak out as much."

"What's that about us having a terrorist ancestor?" Tony asked gruffly.

"Oh, not you," Ant said. "Apparently Mom is descended from Bartholomew Barebone himself. But," he tilted his head from side to side as he weighed the possibilities, "since nobody has mentioned any names, I don't know if the 'mom' in question is you," he nodded to Mae, "or Joanna."

"Well," Tony said, "I don't know anything about any kind of attack on a wizard's house. We haven't done anything wrong. You think we'll get a fair trial?"

Ant weighed the possibilities again. "I think that depends on whether the person who framed us works in MACUSA or at Ilvermorny. But I think the Aurors, at least, are impartial enough."

"Right," Mae said, "you mentioned them before. They're like cops?"

"Magic FBI," Ant said simply.

There was a long moment of silence. Ant, feeling that any threats to his person had passed, put his wand back in his inside coat pocket and retrieved a chair from the dining room. He sat, facing his family, as the silence dragged on. It was several minutes before Marie broke the silence this time.

"What about me?" she demanded.

"What about you?" Ant responded.

"Why didn't I get to go to Ilva-whatever?"

Ant sighed then broke the news to her. "You asked before, too. You have to be born with magic. I just got lucky."

Marie scowled. Ant felt annoyed by this. It was like life was a genetic lottery. Marie had won good looks that far surpassed those of their parents, and was ungrateful that her plain, mousy little brother had won something she didn't have. "I wish you had been a witch, too," Ant admitted. "Because then none of this would have happened to me."

Perhaps sensing that Marie was about to say or do something she'd end up regretting, Tony repeated Mae's question from before. "So, where are they? You said they'd be coming to interrogate us."

"Yeah," Ant said. "Lopez also said there'd be food. I haven't eaten since dinner last night."

Tony snorted. "Don't trust cops to feed you while you're in jail," he said curtly. "They'll withhold food until you're hungry enough to confess just to get a heel of bread." He took Marie by the crook of her elbow and pulled her up from the couch. "Let's get cooking." He and Marie left Ant and Mae in the living room.

This silence was the most painful, as Ant thought of all the things he wanted to say, and the ways he could say them without having to resort to using magic to stop her hitting him again. He still had nothing when Mae finally broke the silence.

"Y'know," she said peaceably, "Marie is just _terrible_ at doing dishes. Food left on half the plates after she washes them. Water spots on the glasses. Never had that when you were doing it."

Ant decided there might be a way to make Mae hate magic a little less. "Yeah," he agreed, "and now that I can make the house clean itself, she'll never catch up, will she?"

Mae didn't scowl, or narrow her eyes, or shout that magic was inherently evil and sinful and that he was going to hell for joking about it, much less actually learning it. To Ant's immense relief, she laughed. "Show me," she said, gesturing at the wooden coffee table, which was, Ant thought, in need of a good polish.

Ant drew his wand. He focused for a long moment, then pointed his wand at the table and said clearly: " _Scourgify_." A thick foam that smelled of lemons issued forth from his wand, coating the table evenly. Ant smiled, then tried something new, a charm he'd only read about and taken notes on: " _Accio Rag_." There was a moment where he thought it might have failed, but with a muffled thump of a wooden cabinet door being opened a crack and allowed to close, a rag came zooming from the bathroom to Ant's outstretched hand. Lastly, Ant muttered, " _Mobilius_ ," and the cloth leaped from his hand to move in small circles across the tabletop, directed by his wand. He looked up from the table, hoping to see approval. Her expression was mixed between slight fear and open wonder.

After the cloth had finished polishing the table on its own, Ant used the Mobility Charm to fling it into the hamper in the hall, then stowed his wand. They lapsed back into silence, but it was less tense. It wasn't long before Tony and Marie brought out plates piled with eggs, fried potatoes, and bacon. The family settled down to eat in the living room around the gleaming, wooden coffee table. This, Ant thought, must be the truest sign that things had changed. He'd never been allowed to eat in the living room before.

Just as Ant settled into enjoying this bizarrely harmonious moment with his family, there came a knock at the door.

Chapter Thirteen

A Swell of Evidence

Ant swallowed his forkful of potato, then laid his plate on the coffee table and moved for the door. Tony and Mae stood. Ant opened the door, and through it stepped Director Carneirus, Weiss, and a handsome man about Tony's age that Ant didn't recognize. As he entered, he held out a hand for Ant to shake. "Samuel G. Quahog, Director of the Office for Magical Relations and Education." He crossed the room to shake hands with Ant's parents and Marie as well.

Ant retrieved chairs from the dining table for them to sit on, then sat on the left end of the couch, between his father and Mae, who resumed her seat in her computer chair.

"… found nothing, of course. I'm very sorry for all the inconvenience this has caused you all," Director Quahog was telling Tony and Mae. "The magical community can't really suffer another threat like the Scourers. Nomaj relations are barely holding out as it is. You should hear the arguments between the President and the Nomaj President over our refusal to intervene in Nomaj conflicts. That aside, we'll be returning you to your home as soon as the matter of young Anthony's schooling is settled." He deferred to Director Carneirus, who drew her wand and waved it, causing a tray of documents to appear on the coffee table.

"These documents," she said to Ant, "track your mother's ancestry back through the generations." When she said, "your mother", her eyes had flicked from Ant to Mae. "I'm afraid that the claims made about your ancestry are true, Mister Acklin. You are to be expelled from Ilvermorny School forthwith. By our laws, you will not be allowed to retain any memories of magic or the magical community. You will be assigned an Obliviator who will ensure that this remains the case even if you rediscover your magic."

Ant gulped, but kept his voice from shaking as he asked: "What name is given for my mother on those documents? Because you looked at her when you said my mom is descended from Bartholomew Barebone, but she's not my biological mother."

Director Carneirus blinked in shock, then passed Ant a folded document from near the top of the pile. Ant's heart beat fast as he took it. It was, he was certain, a birth certificate. He unfolded it while looking into the Director's eyes, then peered down at the page. An instant was enough for his eyes to catch the name on the birth certificate. It read, in the imperfect markings of a nearly forty-year-old typewriter, "Joanna Penn". Goosebumps spread across Ant. It had been his most desperate wish to see Mae's name there.

"I'm sorry," Director Carneirus said quietly, even tenderly. "I had hoped to be wrong, too. The law is clear. We're going to take you all up to the F.B.C.V.N.O. to make you forget about all this. But as Director Quahog said, first we're going to let you choose where you want to go to school."

"What?" Ant asked, confused.

"We're willing to get you a position in any Nomaj preparatory school you wish," she explained. "Your future, even if it won't be in the magical community, will at least be assured. After all, you've been expelled due to something well outside of your control."

Ant glared at her stubbornly. "If you're going to take away such a huge part of who I am, you can't just replace it with a chance at a lesser future and just expect me to choose it happily."

She peered at him. "I suppose not. If you wish, I'll choose the school for you, and you can go upstairs to be Obliviated."

"If you're going to take away so much of me," Ant said stubbornly, "I want to be near my family after."

" _Fine_ ," she said, her patience wearing thin. "We'll put you in the best school money can buy within the confines of Las Vegas, so you can live with your family. Can we put an end to this now?"

"No," said a deep, rich, almost musical voice as the door opened once more. The man who stood there had dark skin. He was lean and short, within two inches of Ant's height. His hair was greying and slightly thinner near the crown of his head. He sounded like a much larger man. "You can't," he continued. "My client has rights, Barebone Act or no." He, like Director Quahog, shook the hands of each of the Acklins in turn, but he shook Ant's last before introducing himself with a wide smile. "My name," he announced, "is Apollon Frank. My daughter sent me to help."

The next few days were a bit of a blur for Ant. The execution of his sentence had been stayed long enough for him to build a defense, and his family had been returned to Las Vegas with an Auror surveilling them and their memories intact. Ant spent several hours each day studying legal documents and books, or else wizarding genealogies, or studying the documents Director Carneirus had left in the apartment cell, while Apollon Frank shuffled through documents and books as well, or else Ant was left under the watchful eye of Lopez or Weiss while Frank filed forms and made motions to ensure Ant's right to an appeal was respected.

When Apollon was present, between hours in which the only sounds were that of paper rustling or a fountain pen scratching on a page, he would give Ant a tidbit of information: "The first thing Lunetta told me in her letter was that she knew you were innocent because she never gave you our address." "I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Less like a Nomaj cop than a lawyer, though." He didn't seem to realize he'd been quiet for hours and would answer a question Ant asked ages before as if no time had passed.

This work would have been extremely interesting, Ant thought, if he hadn't been so desperate to pull results out of it. There had to be something worth finding here. Some way to bend the law to his favor. At least, Apollon was sure there was. Ant was less certain, but equally hopeful.

One of the things Apollon had Ant do was to build the family tree from himself all the way back to Bartholomew Barebone. The documents were all available to Ant, so it wasn't long before he had a timeline that tracked his ancestry from Bartholomew, to his third child, a girl named Patience du Lapin born in December 1791, all the way to himself, born almost exactly two hundred years later. Ant saw that Patience's place of birth was marked as New Orleans. Almost an hour after he remarked on this to Apollon, and after Ant had moved on to a different task, he responded, "Yes, Barebone's wife fled to New Orleans when he was arrested. Taken in by family there. Amelie, that was her name, demanded a divorce as soon as she was settled. The two older children went back to their father in Washington after he was released from prison in 1810. Worth noting that Barebone never met Patience, who had her mother's maiden name before getting married when she was around twenty."

Apollon Frank was also not Ant's only advocate. He received a letter on his third morning in the cell from Shaun Brandt, whose handwriting suffered tremendously from how ecstatic he had been to tell Ant that his grandmother had agreed to help argue Ant's case. Ant hadn't met her personally, because he wasn't allowed to attend the Concourse, being underage and the confirmed descendant of a man who committed the gravest violation of the International Statute of Secrecy since its inception.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for," he had told Apollon the morning after Apollon had dramatically arrived to demand that Ant be granted an appeal. The magical law expert had told him, some twenty minutes later, that any discrepancy in the facts could help. For almost a week, Apollon Frank compiled each datum that Ant had recited from the records of legal proceedings, MACUSA reports, birth and death certificates.

On the fifth day, before Apollon arrived, Lopez came to tell Ant his legal team had been arguing a case to get the Barebone Act repealed. Many pure-blooded wizards, according to Opha Henries-Brandt, had Scourer ancestors, and this law was just one among many designed to treat Nomaj-born witches and wizards as inferior to those raised in the traditions of the magical community. "I think there's a chance she'll convince them," Lopez said, clearly impressed by Mrs. Henries-Brandt. "Making any progress here?"

Ant looked up from Patience's birth certificate, which some mental itch kept drawing him back to. "I don't have to answer any questions without my lawyer present," he said lightheartedly, "but he's not here to tell me not to tell you that I can't really dispute any of these birth certificates."

Lopez chuckled. "Well, he's on his way down to tell me soon. But hopefully he'll just say that Missus H-B convinced the Concourse to make a vote on the law."

Lopez stayed with Ant for another half hour while waiting for Apollon to show up. When he did, Apollon looked ashen. "They've decided there's no need to vote about whether to repeal the law," he said. In response to the look of wide-eyed fear Ant gave in response, he continued, "You'll still get a trial. You will be allowed to attend the trial, at least."

Lopez cleared out and Ant resumed his work, pushing Patience's birth certificate aside to check farther back. Maybe, Ant hoped, there was something further back that could convince someone it was worth keeping him around. He knew that being descended from one of the twelve original Aurors was tantamount to being nobility – much like, he assumed, finding a Nomaj who could trace his ancestry directly to George Washington or Thomas Jefferson might be. After all, Lopez, Weiss, and Fischer – three Aurors all patrilineally descended from those stories heroes – had been granted positions in the Auror office with what Lopez had casually told Ant was astonishing ease. If Ant could trace his ancestry back to Charity Wilkinson or Gondolphus Graves, the MACUSA would be tripping over themselves to find a way to keep him in the magical community.

Unfortunately, digging further back revealed little. Birth certificates older than two hundred years were hard even for wizards to come by and going more than three or four generations back from Bartholomew was a struggle. Apollon was able to get his hands on some census records that allowed Ant to trace the Barebone name back a bit, but since no known Scourers had been named Barebone, Ant was sure he needed to trace Bartholomew's mother or one of his grandmothers to find wizarding ancestors. Ant moved back through the generations for about another eight hours after Apollon arrived before finding an actual Scourer. It gave him a cold pit in his stomach to read that Bartholomew Barebone was descended from a Scourer who had posed as a Nomaj judge in order to convict innocents brought to him by other Scourers during the Salem Witch Trials. Reading his name in faded cursive handwriting on a death warrant he had signed made Ant feel sick. _Jonathan Corwin_ , Ant read.

He knew there was a history book around here somewhere that Director Carneirus had left; finding it under a pile of birth certificates, Ant checked the book's index for the pages he might find mentions of Corwin on. He was reading about Corwin's assimilation into Nomaj society after the Witch Trials and how that enabled him to escape MACUSA's justice until he died of natural causes in 1718, when Apollon spoke.

"You know, I think you're right. There is something odd about that. I think I'll look into it further, see if I can find anything." Then he looked up, saw a clock on the wall reading that it was near midnight, and said, "That clock's broken, right?"

Ant, still confused about what Apollon was responding to – he hadn't mentioned anything odd in his findings to the lawyer – blinked stupidly a few times, checked the clock, and said, "No, pretty sure it's right. What's odd?"

"I have to get home. Wife'll flay me. Lunetta inherited her fierceness from her mother."

"Okay," Ant said, wondering what was odd. Apollon left without another word. Ant rose, stretched, and walked around to see what Apollon had been examining before leaving. It was the family tree that Director Carneirus had compiled. Ant's version of it now went seven generations farther back. Ant stifled a yawn, then pointed his wand at the light switch, turning it off to get to bed.

The next morning, Ant cooked himself an easy breakfast from the refrigerator, which seemed to restock itself magically in the night, and settled down with the history book he had been checking for information about Jonathan Corwin. He re-read the passages he had perused the night before, which detailed Corwin's actions during the Witch Trials and how he had been a factor in twelve Nomajes and seven witches being sentenced to death for witchcraft. The MACUSA had been founded a few months after a trial in which Corwin's Nomaj mother-in-law had been accused – but not convicted – of witchcraft, and Corwin's court had been disbanded. From there, the historian made it clear that not much was known of Corwin, because he had taken great pains to stay off the MACUSA's radar.

It was suspected, however, that Corwin had killed one of the Original Twelve, because the Auror sent to investigate Corwin and capture or kill him if necessary, had been killed in what seemed to be an ambush. Abraham Potter had been found dead in a field that bore unmistakable signs of dueling, surrounded by the bodies of four known Scourers. It seemed that whoever had actually killed Potter had managed to escape, and since Corwin had been Potter's target, it was assumed that he was the sole survivor of the five-on-one ambush. Potter's twin daughters had been orphaned; their mother had died of dragon pox two years before.

Ant regretted his research now. He had hoped to learn something that would make the MACUSA more lenient, and instead he had uncovered something that would ensure that they judged him as harshly as possible. For the briefest instant he considered burning the evidence, but he was certain that someone else could piece together what he'd found, since he was just short of twelve with little research training. In the end, too stressed to continue digging through census documents and ship itineraries, Ant curled up in bed with the history book, occasionally taking breaks for food, water, or bathroom.

It was evening when Apollon finally came, and then only to tell Ant that the trial would be set for the next day. "They want this over with. I'm sorry we haven't found anything concrete for you." He didn't stay long. Ant was far more nervous now. He continued reading the history book, making his way through the book's chapter on the Barebone Affair.

" _Dorcas Twelvetrees described to Barebone the locations of various magical facilities; of these, however, Barebone managed to find none. Owing to a combination of Miss Twelvetrees' own stupidity and Barebone's misunderstanding of her information, during his attempted assault upon the MACUSA headquarters on April 24_ _th_ _, 1790, Barebone fired his weapon, a Nomaj contraption known as a "riffle" which hurled metal pellets at great speed, at a Nomaj postal office, injuring two but killing none. Nomaj authorities arrested Barebone. Thankfully, his protestations of wizards and dark magic went unheeded, and Barebone was immediately sentenced to twenty years of incarceration. While the Concourse was drafting and passing Rappaport's Law at the insistence of the President, Obliviators from the F.B.C.V.N.O. ensured that all memory of his time with Dorcus Twelvetrees was erased, as well as erasing his claims that wizards had established a shadow government in Washington, D.C._ "

Something had just clicked in Ant's head when there was a knock at the door. Lopez stuck his head in and said, "You have a visitor." Ant nodded, and Lopez stepped back. The door opened further, and Terrence Boot stepped into the cell.

Ant immediately jumped up to greet him. Professor Boot closed the door behind him, then drew his wand and gestured around erratically. Ant froze, about to speak, when the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor put a finger to his lips and continued his strange, disjointed motions. At long last, he waved his wand in a circle above his head, muttering, " _Muffliato_." There was a faint buzzing at the edge of Ant's hearing.

Professor Boot sat down in the replica of Mae's computer chair. "Took a _lot_ of convincing to get in here," he said. "I've been talking with Opha Henries-Brandt, she summoned me from the school. Apparently, the Concourse has no intention of giving you a fair trial. They consider it an open-and-shut case. They're going to sentence you and Obliviate you there, then take you home and Obliviate your family. I'm here to safeguard you against that."

"What can we do?" Ant asked, alarmed.

"I've been in touch with some old contacts back home," Professor Boot began. "Essentially, if you're convicted tomorrow, I'll be resigning in protest and returning home." Ant, stunned, could only blink. "What they don't know is that I'll be taking you back to England with me. We can set you up with a wizarding family there who'll take you in for the summers, and you'll be attending Hogwarts as a, er, transfer student."

Ant was suddenly very excited. He could go to Hogwarts. He could still be a wizard.

And then the excitement died, because he had never really thought that being a wizard would mean that he would lose every connection to his old life. If he did this, if he found some way to escape MACUSA's justice, misguided though it might be, he would have to give up everything that he had ever known. His family, his home, his friends. He would never see Shaun again. He'd be a fugitive, and there was every chance that the MACUSA would not give up so easily, and the British Ministry of Magic might decide that harboring a fugitive wasn't worth the possible conflicts that might arise between nations.

"Thank you," Ant said, "but I think I have to take my chances here."

It was Professor Boot's turn to be stunned into silence.

"None of this is fair, but I can't choose between two halves of who I am," he explained. "I get that my family downright sucks most of the time, and I shouldn't really defend Mae because of what she's done, or my dad because of what he's allowed her to do." Ant gave an exaggerated shrug using his shoulders and arms. "And that's not even getting into how hard it is to live with my sisters, or the drama that comes from my bio-mom's family. But I won't become a criminal and put them at risk just to get my way."

Professor Boot smiled sadly. "Well, if you change your mind…" He laid something down on the coffee table. "This was found in the library. Mister Dagworth tried to open it, then passed it off to the Headmistress, who recognized it as your stolen journal by the description you gave Professor Spaulding."

He moved towards the door, then turned one last time. "If things look rough, turn the diary into a Portkey, set to return to your apartment in Las Vegas on Christmas Day. Then find a way to write to me."

He left. Ant was sorry to see him go but didn't really regret his decision. Nevertheless, he opened up the journal to chronicle the events of the weeks since it had been stolen. He turned to the last page he had written on. He had written about Professor Fontaine moving him to sit next to Shaun and how the two of them were studying Potions and Transfiguration together. Ant touched Shaun's name in the book and smiled. His life had changed so much since then.

Ant grabbed the fountain pen that Apollon had left for him and turned the page to begin writing. When he saw the next page, he saw handwriting he recognized.

The words said: _If you aren't expelled from Ilvermorny, come to my office the Friday night after your return. We have much to discuss. I know who framed you_.

The note wasn't signed, but Ant was hardly likely to mistake the handwriting of his least favorite professor.


	4. The Ilvermorny Conspiracy Chapters 14-16

Chapter Fourteen

Trial and Error

Ant stayed up that night until he had finished updating his journal. He ensured that his Ilvermorny school uniform was clean and pressed, so he could wear it to his trial. He began sorting the documents left to him to help build his defense into two piles: those he hoped might be useful, and those he thought wouldn't help. After the detail that had clicked into place before Professor Boot's visit, Ant was fairly certain he had a chance.

In the end, he kept four documents: the family tree drawn out by Director Carneirus that connected Ant to Bartholomew Barebone; the history book, _Scourers and the Creation of MACUSA_ by Theophilius Abbot; the Nomaj court document that detailed the conviction of Barebone and his imprisonment beginning in April of 1790; and lastly, the birth certificate of Patience du Lapin.

Lopez and Apollon came to escort him up the elevators to the courtroom. Ant followed where they went in a bit of a daze. He carried the documents he had chosen as his evidence in a blandly-colored file folder (the hefty book he carried in his right hand), his wand in his inner jacket pocket, and his journal in his right-hand pocket. If things didn't go as Ant hoped, he'd use the Portkey Charm on his journal. He didn't know if it would succeed, but he knew the theory and the incantation, and had decided it would be worth a try if he exhausted every other possibility.

The courtroom was quite similar to those Ant had seen in television shows his grandparents liked. There was a judge's bench in the front, with a witness booth on one side and a stenographer's booth on the other. Along one wall was a gallery for a jury. Ant was frog-marched in with Weiss and Lopez on either side and Apollon right behind him. There were rows of seats for an audience. These were filled by quietly conversing witches and wizards dressed in their typical work attire: essentially the same fashion as the professional Nomajes working in New York City, but in slightly more flamboyant cuts and colors. Silence fell as Ant was escorted to the table with a placard on it reading "DEFENDANT".

He took a seat after being gestured to it by Apollon. Shortly, the doors opened again, and the prosecutor entered. Apollon stood and shook her hand. Ant didn't recognize this woman; she was beautiful and red-headed but severe looking. Ant got the distinct impression that she found the whole situation distasteful. He wasn't sure if she found the idea of prosecuting a child distasteful though, or if she was offended that his case even made it to trial.

Apollon returned to the table. Ant tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, then opened his folder and spread out the documents. Apollon looked at them with mild curiosity but didn't speak any more than Ant. Ant opened the Abbot history book to the page he had bookmarked, then pointed at a specific passage. Then he pointed at specific lines of each of the documents in turn. Apollon's eyes widened as he understood the point Ant was trying to make. He looked from the documents on the table to Ant, then grasped his shoulder with a triumphant smile. Another door opened, and the jury filed in. They took their seats. The courtroom fell silent again, then a wizard near the bench – _bailiff_ , the word sprang into Ant's mind from the courtroom procedurals his grandmother so loved – spoke in a carrying voice: "All rise for the Honorable Aequitrix Farine Wakefield." Everyone rose.

An ancient-looking witch entered the courtroom from a revolving hidden door behind the judge's bench. She looked frail and was bent and liver-spotted, but Ant saw steel in her eyes. She surveyed the courtroom before taking her seat. The bailiff gave them permission to resume their seats.

Ant lost focus and steadied himself by taking long, slow, deep breaths. When he no longer felt his heart beating in his throat, he found himself listening to the prosecutor's opening statement, in which she promised evidence that Ant's admittance into Ilvermorny violated the Barebone Act, a law which had been passed to protect the Wizarding community. After she concluded, Apollon rose to give his own opening statement.

"Witches and wizards of the jury," he began, "I will demonstrate thoroughly that my client has broken no laws, nor have any laws been broken to allow him into Ilvermorny. He is a wizard and his rights to be a member of our society must be protected. That is all." His voice, always deep and rich, rang with far more charisma than he had ever shown with his nose in legal documents. Ant had the distinct impression that this was a performance, and that it would be decided by whichever lawyer was the better actor in their role.

The prosecution, whose name Ant seemed to continually miss, called her witness to the stand. Astrid Carneirus took the seat. The prosecutor asked her to describe the contents of the Barebone Act. After she did so, the prosecutor asked her to examine a document. It was, Ant saw, the family tree Director Carneirus had written up herself. "Is the information contained herein, to the best of your knowledge, factually correct?"

"Yes," Director Carneirus answered. "I compiled the document myself after examining every certificate of birth between Patience du Lapin and Anthony Acklin, Junior. The certificates denote a clear descent from Bartholomew Barebone, du Lapin's father, to Anthony Acklin, Junior through his biological mother, Joanna Acklin, nee Penn, spanning nine generations."

The prosecutor asked a number of further questions related to the context of the Barebone Affair and its aftermath. Eventually, she smiled sweetly, said, "No further questions, Your Honor," and resumed her seat.

Apollon Frank rose to question the witness. "Madam Carneirus, are you a mother?"

"Objection," the prosecutor's voice rang out. "Impertinent line of questioning."

"Your Honor," Apollon interjected, "I swear to you this line of questioning is _exquisitely_ pertinent to the facts of the case."

Aequitrix Wakefield considered for a moment, then said, "Overruled. Ensure that it is pertinent, Frank."

Director Carneirus blinked, then answered, "The counsel is aware that I am a mother of two."

"Thank you, Madam Carneirus. In your experience with motherhood, how long is the gestation period of a human embryo? From conception to birth?" Apollon continued.

Director Carneirus raised an eyebrow. "Forty weeks, approximately. Some children come early, some come late."

"In regards to children born late," Apollon asked, "are you aware of any cases in which the child remained in the womb for a period of, say, more than a year?"

Director Carneirus's other eyebrow rose to meet the first. "No, although I wouldn't be surprised if some magic could slow the rate of growth…"

"Magic is immaterial to my questions, Madam. I'm referring, in specific, to the pregnancy of a Nomaj woman."

"Then, absolutely not. Nomaj doctors would induce labor to ensure the child is born within a few weeks of missing its due date. A late-term pregnancy could kill both mother and child."

"Thank you. To follow up, I'd like to review the document the esteemed prosecution submitted. This is the family tree you compiled given the collection of birth certificates connecting Bartholomew Barebone with my client, correct?"

He passed the bailiff the tree, who passed it on to the Director. "Correct," she said, comparing it to the other copy on the gleaming wooden surface in front of her. "This is an identical copy to the one the prosecution presented."

"I would like you to examine that date of birth given for Patience du Lapin," Apollon requested. Carneirus did so, then nodded.

"Yes, it's the same date as on her birth certificate."

"Do you know the date that Barebone was arrested, tried, and sentenced to twenty years in prison?"

"Of course," she answered drily, "April twenty-fourth, 1790…" Her voice trailed away.

"Also collected in your library of evidence is a letter from Amelie Barebone to her husband in prison, demanding a divorce. When is that letter dated, and from where was it sent?" Apollon questioned her.

"May thirtieth of the same year," Director Carneirus answered, catching on. "From New Orleans, which still belonged to the French at the time."

"Further documents you uncovered and sent to us indicate that Amelie's request for a divorce was granted, and that she began using her maiden name henceforth. On what date was the divorce granted?"

The prosecution handed the requisite document to the bailiff, who passed it to Director Carneirus. "July twenty-sixth, 1790," she read from the divorce papers.

"Please repeat the date of birth given for Patience du Lapin on her birth certificate," Ant's lawyer announced.

"December twentieth, 1791. Nearly twenty months after the last time Amelie saw Bartholomew Barebone."

The trial recessed from there, and Ant was allowed to be escorted to find a meal outside the Woolworth building, the first time he'd been in direct sunlight for over a week. Apollon and Weiss escorted him to a small, dimly lit Italian restaurant where Ant ate voraciously at an outdoor table partially shaded by an umbrella. Ant was grateful that the weather wasn't as cold as it could be this late in the year, though he suspected the long-missed sunlight had a great deal to do with the warmth he felt.

Apollon paid the bill with a small bundle of twenties long before Ant was done eating and returned to the Woolworth Building. Weiss stayed with Ant, eating a plate of gnocchi in silence. Apollon, Ant knew, was going to call for an investigation into the actual parentage of Patience du Lapin, since the identity of her father was in sufficient doubt to clear any belief that Ant was a descendant of Bartholomew Barebone. They had discussed it quietly on the walk to the restaurant: Apollon would first gather documents showing that Amelie never visited Bartholomew in prison, where conjugal visits hadn't been allowed in any case.

This information would be sufficient to clear Ant and send him back to Ilvermorny, but Apollon intended to take the investigation a step further and verify the identity of Patience's true father, if any evidence existed. The birth certificate had Amelie's and Bartholomew's names on it, but since there was no logistical way for Bartholomew to have fathered Patience, Apollon believed Amelie had put her husband's name there to deflect questions about the impropriety of a woman bearing a child out of wedlock.

After finishing their meals, Weiss walked Ant back to the Woolworth building. "That was quite a turn back in the courtroom," he said. "Kind of surprising that nobody questioned the gap between Barebone's imprisonment and Patience's birth. What do they teach in those Nomaj schools, detective classes?"

"No," Ant responded. "They teach us Sex Ed."

Ant's curiosity, no longer weighed down by the fear of imprisonment, expulsion, or Oblivation, was piqued by every sight on the way back to the courtroom. He felt that he could wander the streets of Manhattan for days, just admiring the structures Nomajes built. And, for that matter, those of the American magical community. He had read that the Woolworth building was built by Nomajes with wizards enchanting and building alongside them to place the MACUSA capitol inside the Nomaj skyscraper. It was an astounding feat that could have ended disastrously, considering how close the wizards must have come to breaking Rappaport's Law to get it done.

Ant and Weiss waited outside the courtroom for an invitation back inside. Ant looked all around, taking in the sights of the messenger animals made of folded paper that scurried or flapped past; and of witches, wizards, goblins, and house elves that went to and fro. Around the time Ant started to feel restless, the courtroom door opened. Exiting alongside Apollon and the prosecutor was an older woman. Her hair was mostly gray and was done in tight curls pulled back from her face. Her expression was of slightly smug satisfaction. She moved directly toward Ant, and as she closed the distance between them, he recognized the amber color of his eyes. He immediately got to his feet, as did Weiss.

"You must be Mrs. Henries-Brandt," Ant said. "I'm so honored to meet you." He offered his hand, which she shook.

"I hear you unraveled the whole prosecution in there," she said, smiling, eyes darting to the redheaded prosecutor, who looked decidedly more cheerful to have lost the case.

Ant shrugged. "I think people just saw what they expected to see."

Mrs. Henries-Brandt gave a small chuckle. "Exactly. Use that to your advantage. Right now, for example, I've used this case to force through even greater reform on laws that affect Nomaj-borns but not pure-bloods or half-bloods. You were almost punished over nothing to satisfy the prejudices of citizens who see themselves as superior. You can forgive them their prejudices, but never forget them." She turned to the lawyers. "Apollon, Anna, I must be going. Anthony, do tell my grandson hello for me. Helmut, a pleasure seeing you, as always." She nodded her head at each of them in turn before walking away. Apollon gestured for Ant to come back inside. He resumed his seat, as did Apollon and the prosecution witch, whose name was evidently Anna.

A few moments later, the bailiff announced the arrival of the judge again, and the courtroom stood. The remainder of the trial, as it were, was a few minutes' speech from the judge about research being tainted by confirmation bias. The forewitch of the jury stood and announced that they had found Ant not guilty on all charges.

Twenty minutes and an elevator ride later, Ant and Lopez stood on the roof of the Woolworth building, from where they Disapparated, returning Ant to Mount Greylock.

Chapter Fifteen

The Man with the Plan

Ant returned to Ilvermorny that snowy Tuesday afternoon amid whispers and rumors that flew around the castle as if carried by the winds raging outside, rocking the trees that blanketed the mountain. Ant arrived during the final lesson of the day. Rather than going to class, as he was in no mood to see Professor Lowell just yet, Ant returned to the Wampus lounge and got to his dormitory. Everything was as he left it. His bag, which he had been forced to leave in the hospital wing, had been laid on his bed.

He pulled out _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ and resumed where he had left off. The idea of clothing enchanted to carry protective charms seemed somewhat less necessary, but Ant was still interested in trying it out. After extensive note-taking and almost an hour of practicing the Shield Charm, Ant felt he could probably deflect a solid jinx with it. The real difficulty, he knew, was in enchanting an item of clothing to bear the spell itself.

First, Ant practiced with a white t-shirt he had brought from home. It was the most disposable clothing item he had at Ilvermorny, and although he wanted to enchant his uniform jacket, he didn't want to be stuck with just one jacket if he damaged the first. Indeed, one of his early attempts resulted in the shirt catching fire, which Ant put out by throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. His next attempt seemed to work better, but when he prepared to cast a jinx at the shirt, it shriveled up in fear when his wand pointed at it and recoiled from his touch when he reached to pick it up. Mildly horrified, he cast the general counter-charm and was relieved to see that his shirt no longer behaved like an abused dog.

By the time Ant had succeeded in enchanting the shirt with _Protego_ , the sky had darkened considerably, and Ant was sure it was dinnertime. The Jelly-Legs Jinx he cast at the shirt had reflected off it and hit him squarely in the chest, and he had clattered to the floor before casting the counterspell. Confident with his ability to enchant the shirt, he hung his school jacket from the wardrobe and started the process again. When he was finished, the jacket looked no different from normal, but Ant was able to deflect a jinx off it – this time, however, he did so at an angle, so the jinx wouldn't bounce directly back at him. He was glad nobody had seen that mistake.

Slipping on the jacket and returning his wand to its pocket, Ant left his dorm and made his way down to the Dining Hall. Most students, he realized, were probably already inside. As he approached the door, Mister Spaulding stepped out, relieved to see him.

"I was just about to go lookin' for you, kid," he said with a grin. "Professor Hicks is about to give another speech about you. Figured you'd want to be there." They entered the hall together, but Spaulding kept a hand on Ant's shoulder to keep him from rushing to his friends. Shaun and Lunetta's faces split into huge smiles. Ant smiled back and waved at them.

Professor Hicks stood, and the buzzing whispers that had filled the hall faded out. "You have all heard much about Anthony Acklin," she stated. "You have heard all the rumors floating around the school. Some of you are starting the rumors. I'm going to put them to rest.

"Mister Acklin is not a Scourer. His family have no ties to the Scourers. He is not descended from Scourers. He was tried in a MACUSA court and found not guilty on all of those charges. It is believed these rumors, and it is believed – that is, _I_ believe – the cowardly attempt to get him expelled by making false threats on wizarding families was motivated by his No-maj parentage. Mister Acklin is as much a wizard as anyone in this chamber, and you would all do well to remember that."

"The students who attacked Mister Acklin the day the false letter was distributed to the school have come forward. They have received their punishments and will be making public apologies to Mister Acklin now that he has returned to Ilvermorny. It is my wish – and, I'm sure, Anthony's – that we move beyond this matter and resume the great work of educating the future leaders of this nation. Treat each other with kindness and respect. Learn a lesson from this failed character assassination." She gestured at the mass of tables before her; each one was suddenly laden with food.

Ant crossed the hall to reach his usual table. Heads turned, and whispers resumed, but Ant didn't care; he really only cared about two people in the hall right now. Shaun and Lunetta had saved him a seat between them. They stood as Ant approached and he hugged them both before sitting. "Thanks, you guys," he whispered. "I might not have made it without your dad," he nodded at Lunetta, "and your grandma," he gestured to Shaun, "fighting on my behalf. They were going to Obliviate me and make me live as a No-maj," he clarified.

The pair of them looked horrified by the concept. Ant smiled. "And I'm not related to Barebone. So that's nice."

The three of them sat, and Ant greeted Donhold, Isla, Basimah, and Kevin, who also shared their table. As he piled food on his plate – it seemed ages since his Italian lunch on Broadway – he looked around for the other friends who comprised their study group. Ant had feared he might never see his friends again, and the relief combined with the joy on each friend's face as he found them in the crowd made his vision blur. This was where he belonged.

Ant returned to his classes with renewed fervor. He finished _Charms of Defence and Deterrence_ (he had particularly enjoyed the sections on dementors and the Patronus Charm) and informed Professor Boot during Tuesday's lesson. He asked Ant to stay after class, and Shaun waited with him, so they could walk to the Dining Hall together for lunch.

Professor Boot had that stern look he had worn the day he had written the note giving Ant permission to check the book out from the library. "You remember I told you the teachers were planning an accelerated course for you," he began. "It starts when you return from Christmas holiday, with a sort of… _placement test_." He dismissed Ant, who wasn't sure whether he should find the idea of a placement test ominous, although he felt Professor Boot's tone of voice when talking about it suggested there was more to it than he was letting on.

History of Magic lessons were a strange experience. Ant would find Professor Lowell staring at him unblinkingly while he lectured, or while students wrote essays, giving the faintest hint of a smirk when Ant noticed before looking away. This wasn't helping the anxiety building up in Ant as he thought of the meeting Lowell had requested. It was, Ant was sure, a trap. The question was how to spring the trap without actually being trapped.

Another surprise came on Tuesday. As Ant was leaving History of Magic, his last class of the day, Mister Spaulding was outside the class, leaning against a doorframe. "Hey there, Acklin!" he greeted Ant. "How do you feel about one last detention?"

Ant was, frankly, annoyed that he had to have detention _now_ when he needed to be getting ready for a trap, but he was also pretty sure he was supposed to have more than one remaining detention, so accepted, saying bye to Shaun, Lunetta, and Donhold, who had been waiting for him to come to the study group with them.

Ant was working with the Hidebehind again. Its habitat had been moved into a courtyard with a gnarled tree in its center. The castle, strangely, seemed to have grown around this area. Ant wondered if it was the snakewood tree that Professor Lowell said had grown when Salazar Slytherin's wand had been buried atop Mount Greylock. Its twisted branches certainly looked snakelike to Ant.

The courtyard had been enchanted so that the worst of the weather passed over it, although the tree had a bit of snow in its boughs. The Hidebehind lounged on the couch in his habitat. When Ant saw him, the Hidebehind flickered between visibility and invisibility, clearly happy to see the boy who had given him a whole ham. Suddenly, the beginnings of a plan clicked in Ant's head.

The weather worsened as Tuesday passed into Wednesday. Quidditch practices were cancelled when the Thunderbird Seeker went missing during the previous evening's practice. It had taken the whole team, as well as three teachers and Mister Spaulding, who had been summoned right before Ant left detention for dinner, several hours to find him buried under a snowdrift twelve feet deep. He had broken his leg when the winds drove his broom into the mountainside, but because he had had his wand with him, he had been to protect himself from the elements while waiting for rescue. When the incoming storm continued to grow stronger, outdoor classes were cancelled entirely.

After discussing these events with his friends over breakfast, Ant turned to Shaun and changed the subject. "I asked Professor Boot after dinner last night if I could use his office to practice for my placement tests. He said I could, with one other person. Would you join me?" Shaun happily agreed. When they met in Professor Boot's classroom after History of Magic, however, it wasn't to practice magic.

"I have no idea what's coming on that test," Ant said. "This is about the Scourer thing." And he told Shaun about the mysterious reappearance of his stolen journal and showed him the unsigned note it contained.

"Yeah," Shaun said, examining the note. "That's definitely Lowell's handwriting. He does his capital F's exactly like that," he said, pointing at the word "Friday" in the note.

"I'd have invited Lunetta too," Ant said, "but I didn't want Lowell realizing I was onto his trap." Ant filled Shaun in on the beginnings of his plan, and the two of them continued working it out until they had what they both felt was a solid plan, then, as Ant had originally described, they began practicing spells.

The staff and students of Ilvermorny woke up on Friday morning to find the storm engulfing the castle had not relented. The wind could be heard howling over the teachers' lectures, to the point that most professors had quite given up trying.

In Magical Theory, they ended up playing a game rather like volleyball, except the students used their wands to hurl a globe of water back and forth. Professor Hegel spent the class drying off the students who failed to catch the ball and got soaked. Shaun was particularly good at catching the globe, and Lunetta excelled at firing it back at the other side. Since Flying was cancelled, Ant and Shaun resumed their practice in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, this time while Mister Spaulding and Professor Boot observed and quietly conversed.

In Potions, Professor Fontaine kept the class on task, but since their task was to brew Pepperup Potion, and he allowed them to converse over their shared cauldrons, they at least remained cheerful throughout. Donhold talked about how he couldn't wait for the storm to pass and Quidditch to resume. Ant and Shaun joined in the conversation, discussing the upcoming match between Thunderbird and Pukwudgie, and whether Pukwudgie could recover from their loss to Great Horned Serpent enough to win the Quidditch Cup.

Near the end of class, Professor Fontaine came by to inspect each pair's results. Occasionally, he offered constructive criticism to students, or else mild praise, but when he reached Ant and Shaun's cauldron, he stopped dead in his tracks, wafting the potion's gentle fumes toward his face. "You've added… are those marshmallow petals?" He pointed at the delicate white flower petals that had risen to the top of the potion.

"Yes, sir," Ant began. "They counteract the bitterness of the Mandrake root, giving the potion a more pleasant taste." Shaun nodded at Ant, and made a two-handed gesture that Ant understood to mean _keep going_. "I also think it'll prevent the steaming that usually comes with Pepperup Potion, but I can't be sure unless we try it."

Professor Fontaine rubbed his chin for a moment, then called over Clayton Tripplet, one of Shaun's Pukwudgie dormmates, who was trying unsuccessfully to hide his sniffles. Professor Fontaine scooped a serving of the potion out of the cauldron and ladled it into a mug. "Have a drink, Tripplet. And take care to disinfect your table while you're cleaning up, I don't want that cold spreading."

Tripplet looked at the mug distastefully, accepted it, and took a sip. The look of mild disgust vanished from his face, replaced by surprise. "Man," he said, "this tastes _way_ better than my mom's Pepperup." He took a larger swig and drained the mug in a few more gulps. His nose, which had been very red, seemed to fade back to its regular color.

"Was the marshmallow Acklin's idea or yours?" Professor Fontaine asked Shaun.

"It was Ant's idea, Professor," Shaun replied. "He even grew the marshmallow flowers in Herbology himself."

"Well," Professor Fontaine said to Ant, "you're not the first to try marshmallow to improve the Pepperup Potion. Considering I've never published my results, you can't have stolen the idea from my own experiments. I will tell you that you're right, it prevents the ear steam." The Potions Master conjured a large handkerchief from the end of his wand and handed it to Clayton, who went back to his table to begin wiping it down. "The problem is that it forces the drinker to basically expel the cold through the nose. All at once."

As Clayton reached his table, he let out a great sneeze, covering the tabletop and dripping it on the floor. Professor Fontaine shrugged, watching with mild detachment. "I hoped he would use the hanky to intercept the sneeze. Oh well." To Ant he said, "That'll be fifty points, by the way."

Ant gasped in horror. It was a failed experiment, sure, but was it worth costing Wampus house _fifty points_? Seeing the look on his face, Fontaine laughed. "Fifty points _to_ Wampus, Acklin. You've grown well. You were wrong, but that kind of instinct is exactly what a great potioneer needs. And fifty points to Pukwudgie as well, Brandt, for tutoring him."

The last class of the day, since the evening Astronomy class was cancelled pending the passage of the storm or the completion of the planetarium, was History of Magic. Professor Lowell handed back essays from earlier in the week. Ant's essay, which he had been thorough in writing, was graded a low E, although Ant couldn't find any corrections on it to show what he might have done wrong. The professor had written, next to the grade, the number eleven. Was that his way of saying he wanted Ant to come to his office at eleven tonight? Ant peeked at Lunetta's grade.

"Stop comparing," she whispered, smacking his hand. Ant gave her a guilty grin. She had gotten an O, he saw, but there was no number next to her grade. When the class let out, Ant and Shaun returned to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Ant filled him in.

When the two felt they had gone over the plan as many times as they could justify, they went down to dinner together. _Everything is in place_ , Ant thought to himself. He hoped that things went according to plan. _Nothing ever does in books_ , he thought. Lucky for Ant, life wasn't a book.

Chapter Sixteen

Office Hours

At 10:45, about half an hour after Donhold had pulled his blankets over his head and about fifteen minutes after Vicente had finally put the light out, Ant left the dormitory. He wore sweatpants, thick socks, and a very particular white t-shirt. His wand was tucked into the pocket of his sweats. The socks, he thought, were the best part of his stealthy attire. Shoes or bare feet would be pretty loud against the stone floor of the castle, but socks had the benefit of keeping his feet warm despite the snowy nor'easter howling outside as well as keeping his steps nearly silent. Although, truth be told, Ant wasn't in the slightest afraid of being caught after hours.

Ant padded his way up to the sixth floor and found Lowell's carved office door. He hesitated there. After a moment, he felt something soft and light, like a loose hair, trail along the back of his neck. He gave an involuntary shiver, then knocked on the door.

"Enter," Lowell drawled. Ant saw the doorknob turn and the door swing open, seemingly on its own. He stood there a moment, peering into the office, before stepping over the threshold. The office was dimly lit. There was, on the wall behind Lowell's desk, either a painting or an enchanted window that showed a beachfront house. Ant assumed, given Lowell's accent, that it might be from Georgia or South Carolina. After a brief, but pregnant silence, Lowell said, "Well, close it behind you."

Ant felt the slight tickle on the back of his neck again. He repressed the urge to shudder and pushed the door shut. It caught with an audible _click_. The trap was sprung.

"I suppose," Lowell said, "you must be wondering how I came to have your little diary. And why I kept it long enough to break that little enchantment, write you a message, and restore the enchantment before seeing it back to you."

Ant tore his eyes away from the beach view. "Well," he said, playing affable, "I've already figured _some_ of it out, Professor. You got the journal from whoever stole it out of my dorm."

"What makes you think I didn't steal it myself?" Lowell countered.

" _Please_ ," Ant said firmly. "You would have been noticed waltzing into the middle of Wampus lounge on a Saturday in the middle of the day. And people would have asked _why_ you were there, especially in the room of a student you openly dislike. So, you had to have a student accomplice. One from Wampus."

"Interesting theory," Lowell conceded. "And why do you suppose I kept the journal after this accomplice gave it to me?"

"First, you had to break the enchantment, so anyone could read it," Ant said, ticking off a finger. "Then you had to copy my handwriting, so you could create that fake letter and get me arrested." Two fingers. "Then, you found out I had Apollon Frank and Opha Henries-Brandt helping me beat those fake charges, so you needed to get the journal to me as a message to lay this trap."

"Again, quite an interesting theory. Some of it may even be correct." Lowell gave that elusive smirk again.

"I'm disappointed I didn't figure out who the accomplice is," Ant continued conversationally, "but I suppose whoever it is will be completely harmless once you're gone." Ant felt that selling this next part was key, so he steadied himself with a deep breath before going on. "After all, no student here could possibly hope to match _me_." He channeled Marie as he said this. His sister was arrogant and completely ignorant of her own limits. Whoever this was already seemed to think he and Marie had that in common, so why not give them what they wanted to see?

Lowell chuckled. "You'd be surprised, boy. You're not even the best _first-year_ , much less the best student."

"Even if there was someone better than me," Ant challenged, "it's definitely not your accomplice, who's such a coward they couldn't even be here to help you spring your trap." Ant leaned forward and pressed the point. "Some cowardly little rat who waits until I'm asleep to attack me, waits until I'm out of the castle to wreck my room, and attacks me when my back is turned. Probably some puffed-up, entitled, pure-blood _brat_ who can't stand the fact that a Nomaj who got lucky makes a better wizard than he does."

Lowell's jaw went slack for the briefest of moments. His eyes glazed over, then resumed their hard stare back into Ant's. "You're entirely wrong."

There was a change in Lowell's tone that actually disconcerted Ant.

"Who am I speaking to?" Ant asked, as if a stranger had intercepted a phone call he was trying to make.

"That'd be the _cowardly little rat_."

"I'm starting to rethink my theory," Ant said, backing away from the desk.

"Oh, _do tell…_ " Lowell stood behind his desk.

"The cowardly little rat isn't the accomplice," Ant answered. "He's the brains of the operation."

Lowell dropped his jaw rigidly and let out a low, rasping laugh.

"And, and," Ant continued, "this is the Imperius Curse. You've had Lowell under the Imperius Curse for a while. That's why Professor Hicks thought it was so weird when I told her Lowell had told the class I was descended from Scourers."

"Yeh- _hesssss_ ," the voice that came from Lowell's unmoving mouth responded. "I placed him under the Imperius Curse the first time I saw him alone, when we broke from the Welcome Feast. I'm afraid that won't be my last Unforgivable Curse."

"You could have killed me at any time before now. If you wanted to kill me, why didn't you just do it then?"

Lowell's body jerked like a puppet being made to shrug. "I still thought I could force you out of the school without killing you. I didn't want people to think someone was attacking _Mudbloods_. That would make you a martyr and pure-bloods would be the first suspects. But, flip the narrative. Make the _Mudbloods_ the bad guys… You can't imagine how happy I was to find Barebone in your family history. I accepted the easy answer and let myself make a mistake there. I should have caught the Patience thing."

"Oh, yeah, no, you're welcome," Ant said. "So, you're going to kill me now? Just the _Avada Kedavra_?"

That raspy chuckle came out of Lowell's throat again. "No, actually, I thought I'd just Imperius you to snap your wand and take a nap in the snow."

"Oh," Ant answered. "Yeah, that's way slower and more horrifying."

"You seem to be rather unconcerned about your impending death," the voice said, making Lowell peer at him shrewdly.

Ant shrugged. "It doesn't seem as horrible as being beaten to death, which is how I thought I might go sometimes. Do I get a last request?"

Lowell drew his wand. Ant noticed his face and hands twitching violently for a moment before settling again. "What might that be?"

"Just tell me who you are."

Lowell froze, wand nearly pointed at Ant. "I suppose that wouldn't be too much to ask. I'll reveal myself to you after you're lying in the snow. No sooner."

Ant moved more quickly than the Imperiused Lowell could, drawing his wand from his pocket and shouting, " _FINITE_!" as he flicked his wand in Lowell's direction. Ant wasn't sure if the general counter-curse could actually work on Lowell, but he hoped it would interfere with the curse enough for Lowell to break free. Ant was certain Lowell's occasional twitches were evidence of him fighting to break free.

Lowell dropped to the floor, gasping, right as a jet of red light flew across the room right at Ant's chest. Ant turned to face the direction the spell had come from as the Stunner ricocheted off the Shield Charm enchanted into the fabric of Ant's shirt. Ant jabbed his wand in that direction, shouting, " _Petrificus Totalus_!" His spell was deflected back at him. Ant changed tack, firing another general counter-spell into that corner. As he did so, the Disillusionment Charm was lifted from the "accomplice", the student who had gone to so much trouble to sabotage and then kill Ant.

It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't even Adrienne Markson.

It was Donhold Rappaport.

"Damn it!" Donhold said, but there was no changing the fact that Ant had seen his face. He fired off a nonverbal spell at Ant, who was lifted off the floor with such force that his head hit the ceiling before his body reoriented, so he was hanging upside down. His wand clattered to the floor.

"Donhold?" Ant said through the haze that was creeping over his mind. " _Why_?"

"Because you don't deserve to go to this school. You don't deserve to be a part of this society. _My_ ancestors fought to protect the magical community. Even if you're not descended from Scourers, you're descended from Nomajes. _Your_ ancestors killed each other just _hoping_ one of them might be a wizard." He hawked deep in his throat and spat upward at Ant. Some of it landed on Ant's face, but mostly it landed on his shirt. The Shield Charm did nothing to deflect it.

"But you were my _friend_ …" Ant blinked furiously. His eyes were swimming. His hair felt wet, and Ant knew it wasn't from tears.

"I was never your friend." Donhold glared at Ant with absolute hate in his blue eyes. "I was raised for this purpose. My task was to get close to a Nomaj-born student, learn about them, and use the information I found to manipulate you into a situation where you made Mudbloods look like a threat to the school and national security. It was a choice between you and that idiot Kevin Kinneman, and I got tired of him on the way _to_ the school, much less actually having to shack up with him in Thunderbird."

Ant remembered something else. After the Sorting… "You got your wand faster than anybody else."

Donhold snorted. "I just grabbed a random one off a shelf in case they might notice me not taking one. I was taught wandlore while you were still filling up diapers," he snarled. "I made this wand myself while you were busy memorizing times tables." He held his wand aloft. "As soon as I finished it, my _true_ education began. Everything they teach here… plus some darker stuff they don't."

"What about…" Ant trailed off, the pain in his head preventing him from getting the words out. "Quidditch… you couldn't have… either…"

"Adrienne. She's also Imperiused. Has no idea." Donhold stepped back from his position below Ant as blood dripped from his hair. "Otherwise I'd have to kill her, too." Donhold looked slightly troubled. Ant wondered if, maybe, murder just wasn't something Donhold had ever wanted to try. Ant was in no state to talk him down, though.

"Did you… get everything… you need?" Ant asked. "Because… I think I'm losing… a lot of blood here…"

"What are you talking about?" Donhold snapped. His attention strictly on Ant, he didn't notice Shaun Brandt and Eulalie Hicks stepping out from under an Invisibility Cloak woven from Hidebehind fur until Professor Hicks had already stunned him. Ant fell to the floor, but Shaun caught him as effortlessly as he had caught a giant orb of water in their Magical Theory class that morning. Shaun ran his wand over Ant's head, muttering. Ant couldn't make out the words through his pain anymore. At first, the pain intensified, then Ant felt bandages wrapping his head tightly.

"Sorry," Professor Hicks said as Mister Spaulding and Professor Boot rushed into the room, binding Donhold and Professor Lowell with _Incarcerous_ and escorting them out of the office. "I didn't want to take him without finding out about all his accomplices, at least in this matter. You got all you could from him. You did great."

Ant smiled at her.

The weekend passed quietly, with Ant staying in the Hospital Wing again. He had tons of visitors each day this time, bringing him news that Professor Lowell had been transported to a magical hospital in Boston, or that Donhold had been delivered to the cells under the Woolworth Building. Ant hoped that Donhold was trapped in the cell that looked like the one-bedroom apartment Ant's family called home. The storm broke on Sunday morning, with mostly clear skies. The temperatures hadn't gotten any better, but Shaun, Lunetta, and a handful of the others from the study group came in just before lunch, snow clinging to their pants and looking a little sunburnt in the cases of Shaun, Kevin, and the Eckhart twins.

"Sorry I didn't bring you in," Ant told Lunetta when only she and Shaun remained. "I talked to Mister Spaulding about it in our detention on Tuesday. He said that Professor Hicks would never allow me to put so many students in danger and to pick one of my friends for backup. And I had to pick Shaun."

Lunetta smiled. "It's cool," she said. "I can't be expected to chaperone _all_ y'all's dates." The boys laughed. Ant made eye contact with Shaun and the pair of them blushed. In Shaun's case, he turned a splotchy, angry red color that made his sunburn look even worse. "I'm gonna go to lunch," Lunetta said. "See you boys later."

Ant listened quietly as Lunetta walked towards the exit. He heard Healer Oxendine say something but couldn't tell what it was. He heard Lunetta's response clearly, however: "Yeah! And they act like I'm not _serious_."

Ant and Shaun discussed their winter break plans for a while, then Healer Oxendine came by with a tray of lunch for Ant and a small jar of some lotion or poultice for Shaun. "Apply that to your sunburn by the time he's done eating or you'll be sleeping in the bed next to him." She froze, then said, "The bed next to his bed. Or whatever. Ant'll get out tomorrow anyways."

Ant did, in fact, get out of the Hospital Wing by Monday morning, just in time for breakfast and classes. Nobody came to arrest him this time, which was especially promising. Ant mashed his over-medium egg into his hash browns at breakfast, chatted with his friends, and tried desperately not to think about the void left behind where Donhold used to be. Physically, there was no void: Minnie Eckhart had brought her twin brother Miles into the group. Emotionally, however, Ant couldn't drag himself away from the first friend he had made at Ilvermorny, who had turned out not to be a friend at all. Some tiny part of him began to wonder: _are any of them really my friends?_ But then he looked at Shaun and Lunetta and knew he had never had better friends. Aside from Frances, he had never trusted anyone the way he trusted Shaun and Lunetta. And he knew he'd never regret it.


	5. The Wand of Slytherin Chapters 1-2

Chapter One

Eastbound and Down

 _There were blisters on Ant's hands from the rough wooden shaft of the shovel he held. His fingernails were caked with dirt, his forehead dripping with sweat. The night was black and moonless, but there was enough wandlight for Ant to see the massive, gnarled tree above him and the roots he was digging between. This was right spot, he knew it. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she nodded._ Save me _, he heard her._ Only you can.

Anthony Acklin woke with a start. It was quiet in the apartment, but the first rays of dawn were beginning to brighten the world outside his window. Today was Ant's twelfth birthday, and the last day before he returned to Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete his first year.

The last year had been a hectic one for Ant. First, he had learned he was a wizard, and Professor Boot had been forced to erase the incident from Ant's family's memories. Then Ant had had to go back to his regular Nomaj school to finish out the school year. He had spent his summer vacation in Alaska, then shortly after returning home to Las Vegas, he was off to Ilvermorny, which his parents believed to be a prestigious private college prep school.

He had arrived at Ilvermorny to find himself the target of a conspiracy to force Nomaj-born students out of the school. Donhold Rappaport, his first friend at the school, had secretly attempted to humiliate Ant, to falsely expose him as the descendant of a Scourer (wizards who betrayed their own during the Witch Trials), to frame him for bogus terrorist threats, and when all his other plans failed, he had attempted to murder Ant.

Ant wasn't sure if he hated Donhold. On one hand, Donhold had committed numerous crimes – including using the Imperius Curse to control other students and members of the staff to help him work against Ant – all in the name of destroying Ant's life in wizarding society. What Donhold had done was unprovoked and unforgivable. On the other hand, Donhold was a child acting under the orders of an adult who had manipulated him and raised him to be the way he was. Donhold wasn't really to blame for what he was being forced to do, Ant thought, any more than Adrienne Markson was to blame for assaulting him under Donhold's Imperius Curse.

At least, Ant was pleased to note, he had other friends. Lunetta Frank was athletic, outgoing, fierce, and implacable. She was also extremely likeable, and her popularity had helped convince a lot of the other students that Ant wasn't the kind of person Donhold had been making him out to be. Ant's other best friend was Shaun Brandt. Shaun valued trust above anything. He also had a goofy sense of humor, loved watching and arguing about Quidditch but not playing it, and had a real gift for Potions.

Ant also had friends on the staff at Ilvermorny. The caretaker, Mister Spaulding, had mentored Ant (and his sister was Ant's Head of House) through Ant's numerous detentions, teaching him how to capture and care for dangerous magical creatures on the grounds of the school.

Ant got up and cleared away the blankets he slept on, then carried out his necessary morning habits. By the time he was done with this, his stepmother, Mae, had gotten out of bed and was shuffling around the kitchen, making coffee.

"Morning," Ant said brightly.

"Happy birthday," she yawned, giving him a hug before waving him out of the kitchen. Ant sat in her computer chair for a moment (Marie was still asleep on the couch).

By the time Ant could smell potatoes and eggs cooking, Marie had begun stirring and sat up on the couch. Ant's father, Tony, made his way from the apartment's bedroom into the bathroom, and Ant heard the shower start up.

"Ant?" Mae called from the kitchen. "Are you done packing yet?"

"Almost," Ant called. He hadn't brought much of his school things home – hygiene items, a couple books, some notebooks, and pens – during the Christmas break, but he had a few things more than that to bring back, mainly Christmas gifts.

The Invisibility Cloak that Ant and Mister Spaulding had woven out of Hidebehind fur had been, Ant was sure, school property, so he was quite surprised to unwrap it on Christmas morning, along with a note from Spaulding that he had earned the right to keep it and a warning from Professor Eulalie Hicks, the Headmistress at Ilvermorny, not to use it to sneak around the school at night.

From Shaun, Ant had gotten a box of basic Dark Detectors. The pocket Sneakoscope included in the set had quickly gotten on everyone's nerves, prompting Ant to wrap it in four layers of socks before shoving it deep in his bag and hiding that in the closet. Ant was sure it spun constantly because of Marie, who had a habit of scooping up loose change when her parents weren't looking and lying about it after. Ant, for his part, took care to keep his little bag of dragots and sprinks and his wallet, which contained the remainder of the Nomaj money his dad had given him back in August, out of Marie's reach at all times.

Lunetta, meanwhile, had gotten Ant an enchanted fountain pen that wrote for him as he dictated. Ant was excited for the opportunity to use it, especially since he'd be able to attempt to cast spells and record the results without having to take a break before the next attempt. He had been writing with the pen since he opened it so that it would be able to reproduce his handwriting.

Ant had given Christmas presents, too. For his dad, he had bought an enchanted razor that shaved or trimmed hair exactly as desired and never cut the skin. For Mae, Ant had enchanted a small scrub brush so that it would clean any surface or items she told it to. She resisted using it, which had prompted Ant to order it to wash the dishes anytime she asked him or Marie to do it. For Marie, Ant had given her a hairbrush that would brush her hair on its own, but only if nobody but Marie could see the brush (he didn't want her showing it off at school). Ant wanted to get similar gifts for his other sisters, but Nicole and Frances weren't aware that Ant was a wizard, and it would be harder to keep the secret from spreading since they didn't live in the same state, much less the same home.

As Tony showered and Mae cooked, Ant packed his Invisibility Cloak in his bag. The Sneakoscope whistled shrilly as he opened it; Ant peeked over his shoulder, expecting Marie to be there, watching over his shoulder. Thankfully, she wasn't. Ant also packed a couple pairs of new jeans he had gotten for Christmas into the bag too, since he had grown just enough that his old ones were visibly a few inches too short.

Ant would be leaving an hour or so after breakfast, according to the plan. Rather than taking a trip to the airport and finding a way to Apparate to the school, as he had with Professor Boot before, Ant would be dropped off at a local building with any other wizarding children local to Las Vegas. One of the rooms was enchanted, Ant had read, to function like half of a pair of Vanishing Cabinets. The room would be closed with students inside on the Las Vegas end and opened on the Ilvermorny end. The students could then just walk through the door, finding themselves in a room built into one of the caves on Mount Greylock. This was how Ant had arrived home for the break. The building the wizarding school used in the Las Vegas area was an abandoned Mormon church a quarter-hour drive from Ant's home.

With his Cloak and his new pants packed, Ant was just about ready to go. Breakfast, a shower, and changing into Nomaj clothes for the day – these were the only things between him and a return trip to Ilvermorny. On his last trip, Ant had been near catatonic, certain that at any moment he would wake up and find that wizards only existed in the books Mae didn't like him reading. After Donhold Rappaport had tried and failed to make that fear a reality, Ant was less and less afraid it could ever happen.

Over breakfast, Ant thought of all the things facing him over the rest of the semester. Professor Boot had warned him he'd be facing a sort of placement test that would determine the pace of his learning for the remainder of the school year. Ant wasn't sure what to expect in these placement tests, but he had been reading at every available opportunity from the books he had brought home with him, which were about advanced charms, magical herbs, and defensive spells. He pored over them in his mind, reviewing everything he had read and taken notes on.

Ant suddenly had the impression that someone had spoken to him and jerked himself out of his reverie. Marie was standing in the kitchen doorway, beckoning him out into the living room. Ant left his empty plate behind.

Tony and Mae stood together at the opposite end of the living room. Tony looked slightly nervous.

"We weren't sure what to get you for your birthday…" Tony started.

"You didn't have to -" Ant began to protest, meaning to say that his birthday was right after Christmas, he didn't expect _more_. Mae waved him down.

"We wrote to that Professor to ask what to get you. He gave us some tips, and, well…" They stepped aside to reveal a small birdcage behind them. The owl inside was minute, about five inches tall. It was asleep, but as Ant approached, its eyes opened slowly. They were a pale shade of yellow. Ant was in awe at the tiny creature. It gave a slight held tilt and _hoo_ ed at him gently. "What do you want to name him?" Mae continued.

Ant paused for a moment, inspecting the little owl. He moved forward and opened the cage. The owl fluttered out and landed on Ant's shoulder, reaching over to give his ear a little nip. Ant giggled. "Are you a _Theodard_? Do you like that?"

The owl gave what Ant guessed was a hoot of approval. "Theo for short," Ant told his parents. He hugged each of them in turn, hiding the joyful tears in his eyes, as Theo hopped off his shoulder and glided back into the cage, resuming his rest. When they broke apart, Ant lowered the drape back over Theo's cage. He turned and saw Marie, who was rushing into the kitchen with a disgruntled look on her face.

His goodbyes this time around were more cheerful. Ant double-checked that he had everything packed and loaded his bag in the bed of the truck before taking his seat with Theo's cage held firmly on his lap, and they were off. The abandoned church was considerably closer to the apartment than the airport was, so it seemed like no time at all before Tony was putting the truck in park and giving his son a one-armed hug. "Back here in June?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Ant said, "sounds like a plan."

Chapter Two

Ant Tested, Headmistress Approved

Ant sat down for dinner that night in the Dining Hall surrounded by his friends. They chattered all around him, asking how each other's Christmas was and swapping stories. Ant was curious whether wizards celebrated Christmas for religious reasons, or if it was primarily secular. He asked Lunetta.

"Well, some wizards are religious, I guess," she said thoughtfully, using her wand to make a knife butter her dinner roll. "But I think mostly people celebrate it because they can."

Ant nodded. "That makes sense. Pretty much all Nomaj cultures have some kind of winter holiday."

"Yeah," Lunetta responded, "my mom's family celebrates Kwanzaa."

Ant joined in with the holiday discussions, proudly telling anyone who would listen about the tiny owl that had been his birthday present.

"Sounds like an elf owl," Basimah chimed in. "They're native to the deserts of the southwest."

"My parents ordered him from a place in Death Valley Town. We live pretty close to there." Ant continued eating and listening to his friends' conversations. Lunetta was gushing over the Firebolt her parents had gotten her – apparently, some new broom had hit the market, causing the top-of-the-line broom's value to drop. Lunetta hadn't been allowed to bring the broom to school – students weren't allowed their own brooms at all – so she had spent the remainder of the break flying it on the lawn surrounding her parents' home in upstate New York. From what Ant heard, it was either remote enough, enchanted enough, or both, that there was no risk of being spotted by Nomajes while flying.

After most students seemed to be done with their dessert, Professor Hicks stood to give an address. "As you all know by now, Professor Lowell will be taking some time off to recover from recent traumas. We wish him a speedy recovery. Until then, History of Magic classes are…" she seemed to pause for effect. The entire school seemed to be hanging onto every word, desperately hoping the next word would be "cancelled". "… going to be taken on by another faculty member." There was a collective groan from the students, and Professor Hicks gave a hint of a smile before continuing.

"Many of you are familiar with the Pukwudgies who tend the school. Mister Spaulding has graciously taken their work upon himself while they took a leave of absence to mourn a significant loss in their tribe. Please understand now that that the Pukwudgies have returned, there are many topics that are considered insensitive to discuss in their culture, and this is one of them. Pukwudgies are secretive and do not appreciate those who pry into their private affairs. With that said, the post of History of Magic Professor will be temporarily filled by the Pukwudgie elder who lives within the school. You are to refer to him as 'Sir' or 'Professor' as you would any other instructor. Treating him or any other Pukwudgie with disrespect will earn you their ire and mine. Good evening." She returned to her seat.

The students rose from their tables, heading off to their respective House quarters. As Ant and his friends reached the door, Ant heard a voice calling his name and stopped, looking for the source of the call.

A seventh-year girl was walking toward him. She was familiar to Ant, although he hadn't met her. Most of Ant's friends filed past, including Lunetta and Shaun. When Ant saw who was remaining behind, he understood why the older girl was familiar. Isla Santiago looked from Ant to her older sister, then made introductions. "Ant, this is Carmela. My big sister. And…"

"And Head Girl," Ant finished. The position was given to the seventh-year male and female students who had the highest grade averages of their year by the end of their sixth year. It was as high an honor as valedictorian at a Nomaj school.

Carmela shook his hand. "I'm just delivering a message from the staff," she told him. "Instead of going to class like your normal schedule, you'll be heading down to the Groundskeeper's office." She described the path to the building a short distance down the mountain, roughly at the same altitude as the Astronomy planetarium. When Ant described the route back to her, she nodded. "I know Mister Spaulding will meet you there. Probably a few other staff members as well. Good luck."

Ant turned to Isla as Carmela made her way to and through the door to the entrance hall. "Make sure you tell Lunetta and Shaun in the morning," Isla said. "I'll let everyone else know you weren't attacked or arrested or anything."

Ant laughed. "You never know," he joked back, "there are lots of opportunities for me to get attacked or arrested between here and the Groundskeeper's office." As they reached the entrance hall together, Isla waved goodbye and rushed up the stairs to find the Magical Theory classroom. Ant turned to the door, waving to the portrait of Theodard Fontaine that hid a secret passage up to the third floor. Theodard waved back with his arrow-pierced hat.

"Hello, Theodard," Ant said. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was excellent, my boy, quite the romp." The man in the portrait looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. "A number of the painted inhabitants of the castle found a painting of a most _glorious_ wine cellar, and we had such a splendid celebration. I spent much of the night and following day listening to the stories of a lovely woman, Mabel. Quite an impressive woman. A sachem of the Wampanoag, you know."

Ant nodded reverently. He had heard the term _sachem_ before, and knew it meant a tribal chief. The Wampanoag, as he recalled, were a tribe whose ancestral lands had covered a good portion of Massachusetts. He had learned a bit about Native American tribes in Nomaj history classes, but had learned in History of Magic that a lot of his Nomaj education was deliberately inaccurate, especially on the subject of how European Nomajes treated the various indigenous tribes.

"The native tribes, my boy, had quite the view on witches and wizards in their communities. None of the cruelty, hate, or fear that Nomajes and wizards of European descent have." Theodard laughed hollowly. "It's strange to think that when our ancestors first came here from Europe, they saw these societies all over this supposedly _new_ world and decided they were savage and needed civilizing."

"I thought the witches and wizards who came here had a good relationship with the Natives?" Ant said, slightly puzzled.

"Well, yes, but I'm referring to our non-magical ancestors, Anthony." Ant's puzzlement became more pronounced, and Theodard laughed. "Why, you didn't think you were the only one with Nomajes in the family tree, did you? Ha! My grandmother called my grandfather 'Muggle' when he got on her nerves."

Ant chuckled, then remembered some of the things he had learned in history classes both before and at Ilvermorny, and nothing really seemed funny anymore. "I wish the witches and wizards had stopped the Nomajes from doing… everything they did to the native tribes."

Theodard nodded. "I felt much the same as you and tried to convince the nascent MACUSA to do something. I think Charity had rather hoped the Nomajes would back down, or that their better nature would win out. But many of the worst things came after my death, I'm afraid, and I had no power to stop it." Theodard's eyes went distant, briefly, then cleared up. "Off to bed with you, boy, before the Caretakers wonder why you're out of bed so late."

He swung open, and Ant bade him good night as he climbed the stairs behind the portrait.

The next morning, Ant confided in Shaun and Lunetta over breakfast about the conversations he had had with Carmela and Theodard. Shaun was very interested in the native tribes' acceptance of magic among them, and Lunetta was more curious about the changes to Ant's schedule. Ant wouldn't know how much time he would have with his friends after today, so he resolved to spend as much time as he could with them at meals, if nothing else.

After a semester of Astronomy classes halfway down the mountain, as well as Flying lessons and detentions on the school grounds, Ant was passably familiar with the geography of Mount Greylock, and it didn't take him long to find the unfamiliar grey stone building that was the Groundskeeper's office. It was a low, long building built into a terraced stretch along the mountainside. Ant was curious about whether the building had rooms that extended into the mountainside, as the transportation building further down the mountain did. He approached the main door, and as he reached out to knock, it swung open.

As Ant stepped over the threshold, his jaw dropped. The room he was in stretched as high as a cathedral. The floor was highly polished wood that, remembering a bench he watched his grandfather make years before, Ant guessed was cherry or had a cherry finish. Apart from a small writing desk with a chair near the center of the room, it was empty. As Ant entered, the door swung closed behind him. Ant didn't bother trying the handle; he was certain it was locked. Ant moved toward the far door. It looked just like the door at the exit. Ant was sure _Alohomora_ wouldn't unlock it.

Ant strode back to the writing desk and took a seat. As he did so, a test booklet appeared on it. It consisted of front and back covers and three blank pages. Ant left the booklet open to the first page and retrieved his fountain pen. He paused for an instant, then decided to write manually instead of dictating to the pen. As he wondered what he needed to write to satisfy this part of the placement test, words appeared on the page.

 _You are facing a pair of Dark wizards. One has his wand pointed at a hostage Nomaj, and the other is using his wand to levitate a large object above a group of five hostages. If you move against the first Dark wizard, the second will drop the object he is levitating, crushing his hostages. If you move against the second, the first will use an Unforgivable Curse to kill his hostage. What action do you take in this scenario?_

Ant reread the question a few times before beginning to formulate an answer. He assumed that, in this scenario, he had his wand. The question was then, what spell could he use to eliminate the threat posed by the first Dark wizard while also protecting the group of hostages from being crushed? Ant had read a riddle like this before, a Nomaj thought experiment, in which a train driver had to choose between allowing one or five people to be run over. In that scenario, saving the most lives seemed to be the "correct" answer. The difference here was that Ant was a wizard. As the very room he sat in proved, with the right spell, anything was possible.

The problem was that Ant couldn't think of a single spell that would accomplish what he needed. A particularly strong Shield Charm would protect the Nomajes from being crushed, and Ant was confident he could cast a Shield Charm that strong, but he knew that no Shield Charm would protect against _Avada Kedavra_. Ant moved on. He could disarm the Dark wizard threatening to kill the single hostage, but then he'd be putting the others at risk. If he was fast enough, he thought he'd be able to stop the object with _Arresto Momentum_ or a levitation charm, but there was every chance he wasn't fast enough, and five lives were on the line. He couldn't make a risky bet.

It occurred to Ant, after a few minutes of puzzling it out, that perhaps the biggest difference wasn't in the fact that he was a wizard, but that it was not a runaway train doing the killing, but two people; and unlike runaway trains, people could be reasoned with. He put pen to paper and wrote: _I would offer to surrender myself in exchange for the hostages' safety._ After a moment, the question and answer disappeared from the page, then a new question took its place.

 _Is it worse to tell a lie to spare a friend's feelings, or to tell them a harsh truth they don't want to hear?_

Ant began writing immediately. _If the subject of the lie is trivial and subjective, it can't hurt to lie, but a close friend probably wants to hear the truth anyway. If withholding the truth protects people, even in the short term, lying might be necessary. If it's important, objective, or potentially harmful, honest communication is the only option._

The test continued for at least an hour, with each question fading away as Ant answered it. Ant realized quickly this wasn't a test of magical aptitude, but rather moral aptitude. He answered honestly, sure that he could act selflessly under pressure. Eventually, he answered a question and instead of the ink fading from the page, the booklet itself vanished from the desk as an audible _click_ told Ant that the door at the far end had unlocked. He rose from his seat and made his way to the door.

Again, it swung open as he approached. The room beyond was pitch black, so Ant drew his wand. " _Lumos_ ," he muttered, giving his wand a twitch. It gave off a soft glow that grew steadily until Ant could see more of the room he had entered.

It was as tall as the previous room, Ant supposed, because the wandlight didn't reach the ceiling. He lifted his wand high, peering around for details. There were no windows, which explained the darkness, but on the far end of the hall, there was a door. Ant turned to watch as the door he had just passed through closed behind him. Then he heard a noise that made his blood freeze in his veins.

It started out like a rattling croak, long and drawn out, before ending in a sighing exhale. Ant spun on the spot, holding out his wand to find the source of the noise before he finally caught a glimpse of his wandlight reflecting off a slimy-looking, scabbed hand. Ant could feel goosebumps breaking out all over his arms. He pointed his wand at the black-cloaked atrocity gliding toward him, and choked out the words, " _Expecto Patronum_!" while focusing hard on the day he learned he was a wizard.

Nothing happened. Emboldened, the dementor took another deep, rattling breath and glided closer. Ant realized that Mae's reaction and the events of that night had probably made the memory less happy than he had hoped. He tried again, shouting the incantation while thinking of his first day at Ilvermorny. As he did, though, he remembered that it was the day he had met Donhold. His wand issued a faint wisp of silver mist.

As the dementor backed Ant up to the wall, he mentally shuffled through memories. Every happy memory at Ilvermorny, he realized, was poisoned by Donhold's touch. And almost every happy memory from before his time at the school had been tainted by Mae, or his sisters, or some other overwhelmingly negative interruption. It grasped at his throat. Ant swung wildly with one fist as he pointed his wand at the dementor's chest, muttering incantations, but none of them had any effect. As the dementor began to lower its mouth to his face, a thought struck Ant.

 _They would never risk setting a dementor on me_. He arched his neck to keep his face away from the dark hole that hid the dementor's face and pointed his wand again at the center of its chest, shouting, " _Riddikulus_!"

The dementor dropped Ant, the black of its cloak turning a bright, lurid yellow. The dementor faced away from Ant, wrapping its arms around itself so that it appeared almost to be a pair of dementors embracing, and it made exaggerated kissing noises. Ant stood and watched it for a moment, terror receding and pouring out of him as hysterical laughter. The yellow dementor exploded in a burst of sunlit glitter. There was a loud _click_ , and the door at the far end opened as Ant approached it, feeling clammy and nauseous.

The next room was well-lit, and Ant could see that it was smaller and full of items. As he entered the room, the door behind him swung shut. Ant immediately started looking around, trying to find something that would tell him what to do. There was a closed roll-top desk that turned out to be locked, a shelf with a collection of glasses of different shapes and sizes, a chest of drawers that were all empty, and a table piled with assorted junk. On the table, Ant's eyes were drawn to a metal disc about the size of a hubcap. It had degree marks all around it, with every tenth degree numbered. There were marks of paint on the wheel, each a different color, each seemingly random. Ant set it aside.

He went back to the chest of drawers and pulled each drawer entirely out of its slot. The middle drawer had had a note stuck behind it. Ant pulled this out and read _3\. Marco loves milk_. Perplexed, Ant left the note on the table next to the disc. He continued pulling out drawers, looking under tables, and shining his wand into dark crevasses; in the end, he found seven more notes, as well as a box with a combination lock requiring three numbers between zero and nine. The notes read:

 _Jane-Fran-Elias_

 _1\. The owner of the wine glass drinks either orange or pumpkin juice_

 _2\. Elias drinks from a glass that shares a letter with his name_

 _3\. Marco loves milk_

 _4\. Fran either drinks pumpkin juice or water_

 _5\. The lemonade drinker does so from a flute_

 _6\. Alex doesn't like fruit-based drinks_

 _7\. The friends whose names begin with vowels drink glasses with a handle_

Ant wondered if there were more hints but decided to try and figure out what he could with what he had. "Most wizards haven't got an ounce of logic," he quoted, smiling. He read the notes a few times while examining the drinkware on the shelf. There was a coffee mug, a larger mug that Ant was sure was called a stein, a wine glass, a plastic tumbler, and a glass similar to a wine glass but thinner; Ant assumed this was the flute. Ant quickly reached for the stein, muttering, "Elias," as he did so. Between the fact that Marco preferred milk and Alex disliked fruity drinks, Ant then decided that Alex drank water from the mug and Fran drank pumpkin juice. Since Elias had a stein, that meant Jane drank lemonade from the flute, which meant that Elias was also the orange juice drinker. That left Fran with the wine glass. Ant retrieved the wine glass and flute from the shelf.

After studying each for a moment, Ant realized the glasses had miniscule numbers on their bases. Pulling the locked box toward him, he entered the numbers from the flute, wine glass, and stein in turn: five-one-nine. The box clicked as it popped open. Inside, Ant found a torn cloth with colored paints smeared on it. He set it aside, sighing, but then his eye landed on the disc with the degree markings on it, and Ant quickly snatched up the cloth again, comparing its colors to those around the edges of the disc. The same colors were on both: pink, green, orange, blue. Ant pointed his wand directly at the cloth, and he realized that between smears of paint were mathematical symbols. _Pink times green minus orange, all divided by blue._

Ant checked the positions of the colors on the wheel and substituted the nearest numbers. _320 times 270, minus 135, all divided by 45_. Ant pulled out his fountain pen and a slip of paper and did the math. After a few moments, he had the answer: 1917. Ant looked around frantically for another lock box of some sort, before he remembered the locked roll-top desk. It was the only other locked device he had seen in the room. He inspected it, and eventually found a strange lock on the desk's underbelly. It had three wheels, all between one and twenty. As Ant reached for the wheels, a wheezy voice issued from the desk, making Ant jump with shock.

"Two attempts, and no more, do ye get who tries my door. The answer lies within this room, and failure carries certain doom. Magic will not let you in; with logic does your path begin. Cups bear hints if you're aware, but combinations are not shared. If wrong lock's code you do provide, beware for you'll be trapped inside." The roll-top ended its rehearsed lines on a miserable sigh.

"Oh good," Ant scowled at it. "No pressure, then." Ant turned the first wheel to one, the second to nine, and the last to seventeen. The roll-top remained firmly locked, but at least it hadn't eaten him. Ant took a deep breath, calmed his slightly trembling hand, and turned the first wheel to nineteen, the second to one, and the last to seven. He waited for a moment, then stood and tried to lift the top of the desk. It jumped open and Ant leapt backwards, preparing himself for a carnivorous desk attack. No attack came. Ant wiped a slight sheen of sweat from his forehead. Inside the rolltop desk was a key.

When Ant lifted the key, he felt it gently tugging him toward the door opposite the one through which he'd entered. He moved toward it, and the key pulled his hand as it fit itself into the door's lock. With an audible click, the door unlocked and swung open.

As Ant stepped into the next chamber and the door closed itself behind him, he became aware of a very low, throbbing vibration that gnawed at the edge of his hearing. This room was larger than the previous, but not as large as the cathedral-type rooms before. Ant raised his wand hand to tuck his wand back inside his jacket, when he heard a shift in the vibration. Its pitch rose steadily for a moment. Ant paused, wand at the ready, and the frequency came to a halt as well.

Keeping his wand steady, Ant moved further into the room. It was somewhat rounded, making Ant think of old theaters he had seen in pictures. He positioned himself in the absolute center of the room and whispered, "Hello?" The room whispered it back to him in his own voice.

Ant began to lower his wand, but as he did so, the note that resonated through the room lowered as well. _My wand is controlling the note,_ Ant thought. He crouched, holding his wand near the floor. The sound became so low he felt his teeth vibrating. He stood slowly and raised his wand high, wincing as the sound rose to a shrill, ear-splitting whistle. He lowered his wand to about his waist, where the frequency was somewhat comfortable.

Ant had taken music classes at the Nomaj schools he had attended, including choir classes. He didn't know how to read sheet music or play any instruments, but he felt he could sing passably if the situation required it. He was grateful that nobody was in the room with him, because he thought he'd get stage fright if he had an audience. Slowly, in stages, Ant raised his wand, singing, " _Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do,_ " and holding the last note for a moment before going through the scales back down to the first _do_. The resonant vibrations changed pitch as he sang. The echoes made it seem like a choir was following his lead, but nothing else happened.

Ant smiled and remembered an exercise his last choir class had done a few times, where they had sung "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in a round. The echoes in the room had created a similar effect, so Ant waited until the vibrations had swallowed the echoing scales and conducted his own way through the song. The echoes seemed eager to keep the round going, joining in at the perfect time. After a few repetitions, though, nothing else had happened, so Ant kept silent, and after a few moments the echoes lost interest in maintaining the round without him.

 _A Nomaj song isn't gonna get me out of this_ , Ant thought. _I need one written by wizards_. The first song that popped into his head was the Hogwarts School song, but an instant later Ant facepalmed as he recalled the Ilvermorny School song. He had heard the song on his first night at Ilvermorny, performed by a choir of older students, and had read the lyrics in his History of Magic textbook, where the author had analyzed their historical accuracy. When the echoes created between his hand and face died out, Ant started singing the school song.

"We stand as one united,

Against the Puritan.

We draw our inspiration

From good witch Morrigan.

For she was persecuted

By common wandless men.

So she fled from distant Ireland,

And so our school began."

He didn't remember all the words, but he did remember that the textbook had said that the song contained a revisionist view of Isolt Sayre's history, obscuring her connection to Salazar Slytherin and vilifying Nomajes to keep old prejudices alive. He didn't need to remember all the words, though, because the echoes continued the song for him. Rather than staggering their voices to sing it as a round, the echoes unified, creating a chorus of simultaneous Ants singing the Ilvermorny School song to completion. When the song ended, the echoes and vibrating notes stopped instantly, leaving Ant conducting silence as the next door on unlocked with an audible click.

The next room had a desk in it as well, and filing cabinets, and gardening tools, and a creature care kit that included the trimmers Ant had used on a Hidebehind the semester before. Mister Spaulding sat behind the desk, and Professors Spaulding and Hicks stood on either side of him. Their eyes flashed up to Ant as he entered. Beaming, Mister Spaulding gestured with his wand to a point opposite his desk, where a chair appeared, spinning to a halt facing Professor Hicks. "Great job! Have a seat!"

As Ant sat, Professor Spaulding levitated the thing on the desk they had been looking at. It appeared to be a shallow bowl, which made Ant wonder if it was a Pensieve, but as he got a good look at it, it merely showed him his reflection. After a moment, he realized it wasn't his reflection after all, but some sort of recording, as the Ant in the image flipped open a test booklet and began reading.

"You did well on the ethics test," she said, "perhaps a bit reckless but quite selfless, at least in principle."

Professor Hicks pointed her wand at the device. The image changed, showing Ant, wand aloft, trying to illuminate a pitch-black room. "You were courageous and resourceful in the face of unknown and unexpected danger." She paused for a moment, then continued. "Professor Boot was confident you'd be able to pull off a Patronus Charm in there."

Ant shrugged. "I just kind of feel like all my happy memories are a bit…" he trailed off.

"There's no need to explain. With any luck, you'll be making happy memories in no time. In any case, you demonstrated knowledge nobody would expect of a twelve-year-old in repelling both dementors and boggarts." Professor Hicks smiled at him.

"You were methodical and logical in the puzzle room, showing a perspective beyond most adult wizards," Professor Spaulding continued. "Quoting Hermione Granger at us, to boot." Mister Spaulding chuckled at this.

"And you showed creativeness and willingness to accept and learn from your mistakes in the echo chamber." Spaulding's eyes darted between the professors on either side, then he continued, "Typically when we send someone in there, they're aware of the echo chamber's properties. They know that it'll cause disparate parts of themselves to fight each other given any reason and opportunity. They struggle to keep themselves…" he chose his words carefully, " _unified_ in the chamber. You had no clue what it was and unified yourself instinctively. Through _music_."

Ant was puzzled and embarrassed. "So… I _didn't_ have to sing?"

"Don't get me wrong, it was effective. You passed the test without even realizing what test you were taking."

Professor Hicks took advantage of the brief silence that followed to change the subject. "Now that these tests have concluded, it's just a question of how to place you. I've reviewed recommendations of the staff, and having witnessed the test myself…" She tapped a piece of blank paper with her wand. Ink flowed across it, forming a weekly schedule. When the ink stopped and dried, the schedule flew to Ant's outstretched hands.

"This is…" he began

"The second-year Wampus class schedule," Professor Hicks said. "You'll be attending those lessons for the first two weeks, as well as review sessions with a Prefect of your House. At the end of two weeks, you'll be assessed for further advancement."

Ant rose, thinking that was the end. But Professor Spaulding continued. "Be aware, Mister Acklin, that you aren't simply being advanced a year. In time, you will reach an upper limit, and when we find it, we will tailor your education to _push_ that limit."

Ant nodded. "Yes, Professor. There was actually something else I was wondering, too."

"Fire away," she said, smiling slightly.

"These tests today, they were more about the kind of person I am than about my level of ability." The professors nodded. "Last semester, I overheard Mister Spaulding having a conversation with Professor Fontaine. I tried to back away when I realized they were talking, but…"

"But sadly," Mister Spaulding concluded, blushing slightly, "it's when you're trying not to eavesdrop when the choicest bits of gossip are shared."

"I overheard him telling Professor Fontaine," Ant said to Professor Hicks, "that you said I might be the American Dumbledore."

" _Oh_ ," Spaulding said, sighing in relief. "Well, of all the things you might have overheard…"

Professor Hicks cut him off with a glare. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, so please know that I said it based on your academic record and only the most basic knowledge of your home life. But what I actually said, during the staff meeting where Professor Boot first recommended accelerating your education, was that we needed to be careful about this. Because you might be the American Dumbledore, but you could just as easily become the American Voldemort." She pronounced it without the "t", Ant registered numbly.

"Oh," Ant said, taken aback. His mind blanked; he forgot why he had even brought up overhearing it in the first place. This wasn't a turn he had expected the conversation to take.

Perhaps sensing this, Professor Hicks continued. "Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle were both brilliant students, probably the best pair of students Hogwarts ever saw. Ilvermorny is one of the youngest established schools of magical learning. It would damage the school irreparably to have a Dark wizard on that scale birthed right here. We need to ensure that you don't follow that path."

"I don't _want_ to follow that path."

"That's great," Professor Spaulding cut in. "And we never believed otherwise."

"With that settled, I think we can end this here" Professor Hicks announced. "Unless you have any further questions?" She raised an eyebrow at Ant.

"Why'd you tell me? That your goal is to prevent me from being another Voldemort, I mean?"

She hesitated a moment, then said quietly, "Because I didn't want to imagine how angry you'd be when you found out on your own."


End file.
